ashes to ashes

The Presidential team hasn’t yet come to a conclusion on what statement to release publicly – and she was stuck in the Tower, away from the conversation, the thrill, the drama, which made it so difficult. On one side, she wanted to appear confident and in control of the situation, on another, it seemed valuable that they all were perceived as dumbfounded. Which she was; which they were. 

She glanced at Ash with uncharacteristic desperation before shifting into a pose with pursed lips and clearer eyes. This continued to be all about appearance. “Off the record?” she inquired, and once again, she found herself excited to speculate, to discuss politics like a man with a cigar in between his fingers. Oh, she couldn’t help it. “I can’t foresee the President’s reaction, but naturally, someone will have to pay. I sincerely hope this doesn’t trace back to District Thirteen. We don’t need a civil war.” But there was no one else. The message was clear as daylight.

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“Off the record,” Ash confirmed patiently. As if she could do anything at all with whatever Lara decided to tell her. The idea of a war did not immediately make her stomach turn as it perhaps should, but it forced her to at least consider the potential fallout. The casualties. What Ash wanted was a world without avoxes and without the Games. But even if District 13 had the means to bring that about, would they? And would they view victors as the enemy for cozying up with the Capitol?

Instability was never pretty, even when sorely needed. It seemed more likely that the Capitol would triumph anyway, given District 13′s supposed recent troubles. Battenberg or not was almost irrelevant. Perhaps it would be something of an ugly pyrrhic victory for Panem. Perhaps they would all die. “I imagine we should be very worried then, with what we know of Thirteen’s military. Are you?”

Lara could hear the crickets for the short time that cut the image of the explosion, up until the Hunger Games commentators picked it up, speculating on the Games for the spare few minutes until the official launch. The destruction had been beautiful, even if chaotic and wrecking. She couldn’t pinpoint her own feelings on it. Her nails were clenched on her presidential work phone, waiting for the first instructions, but her eyes couldn’t leave the screen. Speaking to someone nearby, she gasped as the first of her words formed on her lips. “Imagine if the President…” came a muffled sigh of pure concern. “I can’t even say it.”

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“If she’d been there?” Well, it was a shame she had not been, but Ash could not say that out loud. Certainly not in front of Lara. She was curious, however, as to what Lara knew or thought of what had happened. After all, the stylist was in a unique position, with strong ties to both the president and District 13. Because District 13 had to have something to do with this. “What do you think happens now?”

Rhea and Avenue made it. At least they made it. At least there was a chance of something good in the future, if only one of them could live. A co-mentor was a built-in friend, until that ended. She could use a friend, but in one’s absence, a bottle of wine would do. And then some. Lunch and dinner had gone by, and the only thing she found appetizing was a large bowl of ice cream, to counter the slight fever of drunkenness. “I’ve discovered something very sad,” she announced when she heard someone else enter the lounge where she was curled up on a plush chair. “There are some things ice cream cannot fix.”

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Had the Capitol tributes died within the time it had taken her to get from the lobby to the lounge? That was her first guess at what Surya was getting at anyway. Her gaze quickly darted to the nearest screen, zeroing in on the running statistics on the bottom left corner of it. But Avenue Barcroft and Rhea Cardairel were still alive, and so were Hazel and Pepper. There had not been any more deaths since the bloodbath. The Games had not stopped either, which was something a small part of her had foolishly hoped would happen since the announcement of Lysander’s death. “What needs fixing?” Ash asked as she turned to the drinks cart, intent on finding something good to tide her over through the night.

1920s

Fire Tornado

“It feels like it,” Hazel lamented, fighting back a sniffle that was attempting to run free. Her face felt heavy and she shook her head as she listened to Ash; the mentor was right, Hazel needed to get it under control. If she had a meltdown now she’d just let herself have one in the arena and how constructive was that? If she fully detached herself, placed her emotions like she was outside the arena, like she was back home watching, her primal brain would be able to take over and she’d live. “I’ll try, I’m really gonna try,” Hazel swore, as she pulled herself out of her thoughts, “I want to win. I need to win.”

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I need to win. Ash had heard that many times before, but hearing it from Hazel now reminded her of one instance in particular. A similar looking face, not too long ago, had told her the very same. And Aspen had succumbed to emotions, too, in a way, unfortunately in a much more destructive setting than just the skill presentation. “You know, your sister said the same thing,” Ash mused out loud. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that she had a lot of potential.” Aspen could have--maybe even should have--won. Ash had failed the first Sawyer tribute, she did not want to fail another. “So do you.”

She could use help with everything. Pepper would take any help she could get. All she and Hazel had had to go off of were each other and some old books for training. There was a whole world of information she could know now. But there was so much, and Pepper wasn’t sure where to start. “I’m feeling okay,” she answered after a moment. “I’m just trying not to, um, miss anything. There’s a lot.” She shrugged. “How, uh, how do you think I’m doing? From, um, what you’ve seen?” Her mentor would know where she needed improvement, surely.

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“I think you’re doing alright.” It was both an honest observation as well something that would hopefully be of some encouragement to the girl, especially since she seemed a little uncertain now. Pepper needed confidence if she was going to have a shot at all. “I know you’ve been socialising with the other tributes. That’s good, mostly. Even better if you can get a feel of what their plans are. Now I also know that you’ve been thinking and planning a lot for the interview, which is great. Tributes from our district rarely do that,” she elaborated. “Past that, I’ll do my best with the sponsors as long as you do yours in the arena. Are you planning to work with just Hazel?”

The incoming scores flashed across the TV screen in the corner of the room. No matter where they went, the residents of the Tower would never be far from coverage of the Games. Benny ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Sure, that would be great.”

He took a seat at the small table. “I suppose we can’t complain about the scores. Especially given the rest of the Tributes coming in. Hell, Hazel has one of the highest ones so far.” More scores would trickle in over the course of the evening.

“Let me ask you, Ash. How did you get in touch with the Sponsors? During my Games? That axe…” Benny shook his head, remembering the gleaming weapon. Remembering it in his hands. Remembering that if it wasn’t for said tool, he probably wouldn’t be here now, talking about it. “I can’t even get a Sponsor to have lunch with me right now, much less secure something like that.”

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“I don’t think we can complain about any of our tributes’ scores, ever,” she agreed. It looked like Benny welcomed the scores relatively well, maybe even with considerable optimism. Ash did not want to muddle that with her own worries. She finished pouring both glasses and held one out to Benny, before turning back to the screen, eyeing it with guarded interest. “Five and seven aren’t bad,” she added, perhaps trying to convince herself still.

But Benny’s next question then took her mind off the scores, at least for a while. “I don’t think I did much. People liked you from the start.” There might have been a short period when the sponsors’ interest had dipped on account of Benny’s placidity, but his making it to the finale had more than made up for it. “Or maybe we just got lucky. I don’t know, I don’t think there’s always rhyme and reason behind how a sponsor thinks.” She shrugs, knowing she was being unhelpful but figured Benny would agree. “Who have you been trying to schmooze anyway?”

@ashchane​

I made cookies. she grinned, toes curling with her pride in her shoes. it wasn’t often she had enough time during the tower to slip away and bake, but while caring for zdoorknob that morning, she’d cleaned while they baked. and now, she had a little present for her sister. it wasn’t much that she could give Ash anymore, but it was always good to present something. your favorite cookies. she clarified, pulling out the tupperware and setting it on the bedside table.

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Her eyes widened, attention immediately wrestled away from the tribute breakdown article opened up on her phone. The smell alone flooded the room with a certain familiar pleasantness that had been lost for some time, and it immediately brought her back home, back to when Addy had been home, too. “How did you find the time?” Ash asked in disbelief, beaming at her sister as she reached for one of the cookies in the container. “God have I missed these. You didn’t skip lunch to make these, though, did you?”

closed for @ashchane

There was no escaping the constant barrage of Capitol need. Whether it was a stylist demanding that Benny wear azure (but not cerulean), a Tribute mistaking him for their Mentor (surprisingly often), or an Avox silently asking how they could be of help (usually by leaving him alone), it seemed like someone always wanted something from Benny.

The only group he hadn’t been able to crack was the Sponsors. Maybe it was because District Seven hadn’t brought home a winner in years, or because this Games both of their Tributes were idealistic volunteers - but for whatever reason, Albany couldn’t get into anyone’s ear in an effective manner. 

There was no way this endeavor should be as difficult as is currently was. With a mind towards advice, Benny struck out for the Seventh floor. After all, he had been Sponsored an axe at a critical moment in his own Games. His mentor, Ash, would certainly have something to say. 

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The release of the training scores did little to settle her nerves. In fact, it felt like there were more uncertainties now than before. Perhaps it was her fault, in a way, for expecting too much out of the supposedly trained volunteers, when she should know that they could not be as skilled as the careers or the soldier from District 13. The scores were not everything anyway, she understood that well enough. There was still the interview, and if the girls played that right, maybe she would have something to talk about with the sponsors.

“I didn’t do -“ Hazel huffed out a heavy laugh, attempting to swallow back the frustration laden tears eating at the edges of vision. She cleared her throat and continued to speak, “I just panicked and didn’t do a good idea I was being too - fuckin’ emotional, and then I got all spooked and freaked myself out and - fuck.”

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“It’s not the end of the world,” she tried to assure Hazel. Perhaps she had come off a little harsh with her question. She did not think training scores were indicative of victory, and she was not entirely disappointed, if a little surprised. Hazel’s explanation, however, worried her. “Better now than later, but getting emotional can be dangerous. The arena is a controlled environment, in some ways not unlike the simulation, but it is controlled by the gamemakers against you. Try your best to remain focused out there, okay?”

For the first time since she’d thought it up, Pepper doubted her plan. But she shrugged, and gave as confident a look as she could muster to Ash. “We’re, um, not the only siblings this Games,” she said. She thought about Summer Hazer, the clear pick for the sympathy vote as her brother had just won. “Hazel and I, we uh, need to stand out. We can do this.” 

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Perhaps Pepper had a point. There were other tributes’ and victors’ siblings who would try to gain sympathy the same way, and there had been so many in past Games that they all started to blur. The girls needed all the help they could get, and even if it seemed risky, Ash was not going to dictate them on what they wanted to do. At the end of the day, she was not going into the arena with them. “Alright, if you’re both sure,” Ash said with a firm nod, choosing believe Pepper. “Performances aside, how are you feeling about everything? Training, other tributes... Anything I can help you with?”

Task 005: The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far From The Tree

A five was middle of the pack. Hazel couldn’t be middle of the pack, she needed to be the best, only the best lived through the Games unless by some stupid stroke of luck they survived. A five was not indicative of a survival. She watched the screen as the scores of the other tributes seven, ten, six. All better than her. “I fucked up, didn’t I?” She asked, jaw set askew, head dropping down toward her lap, “I’m sorry.”

@ashchane​

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“What happened?” Five was not exactly awful. District 7 was not known for particularly high scores, so under the usual circumstances, nobody would bat an eye. After everything Hazel had told her, though? Ash had to admit, she had expected a little higher. Maybe even more than a little. “Tell me. I need to know so I know what to say to the sponsors.”

Pepper winced slightly. “That’s…yeah, um, the plan is to talk about her. Get, um, sympathy points or whatever.” She and Hazel had talked about it briefly, but they were mostly focused on being in the Arena. Holland Westbrook had won without any sponsor support, and she and Pepper could too, if it came to that. Although, she also had a team of lackeys who died for their loyalty to her. Pepper gave a small, uncomfortable shrug and then told Ash the idea she’d come up with earlier. “We were also thinking about, um, well, starting a rivalry,” she said. “Like, a fake one, um, for the cameras and stuff.”

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“Are you confident you can pull that off?” There was a sliver of skepticism in her tone. A rivalry seemed unnecessary, considering there was already the sympathy and vengeance angle that Pepper could work with. It was not something that Ash would advise. Then again, it might not hurt either, so long as the girls could make it look convincing enough. “Because talking about your very real sister is one thing, but playing up a fake rivalry is another matter entirely.”