ᴇxɪʟᴇ / ᴠɪʟɪꜰʏ

Meet GRIFFIN CRIPES. Click HERE for his stats, bio, playlist, and other shit. Basic gist is, he’s Haymitch, but 100% sadder, and also, he is Oscar Isaac. We cool? We cool. TLDR for his big-ass bio under the cut!

lil hc wrap-up w/ @givcnup

okay so… long story short??? fava has that interaction with snow and is desperate to find griffin because she needs help / is stressed but griffin is busy talking to nelly so she has to wait her turn like the impatient daughter she is but then BOOM they are able to chat and fava goes first because she just blurts out everything that just happened to her and griffin is all like ??? why the fuck is snow here ?? but also listen fava we gotta go bby and please don’t fight me on this because we need YOU and fava… FOR ONCE IN HER LIFE… won’t fight him or anyone she’ll just agree to do whatever he needs to get safe / help the others that are relying on her (even if she’s scared and wants to go help gather people but you know one step at a time)

tldr: fava is like omg snow wants to kill me and wren!! and griffin is like all the more reason to leave now!! please don’t argue with me just go!! and fava is like ok just this once dad!

(also fava desperately wants to reconnect with robyn so ily robyn)

OKAY A COUPLE OF CHANGES. Instead of bein a good little girl lmao, Fava decides to go with Griffin anyway on the hunt for Hudson. As taken from the edits in the main post:

Griffin and Fava find each other shortly after his conversation with Nelly, and Fava immediately brings him up to speed about what happened with Snow. This gives Griffin even more urgency to tell her about making it to the safe place, and for once, Fava actually looks like she’s about to do it, the fear of her encounter with Snow getting to her. When Griffin says he’ll be hunting for Hudson in the meantime, however, Fava decides to stick with him and find them as well. With little time to argue, the two begin their search together.

@givcnup

She knows she has to pull herself together. Has to think very carefully and listen to every word that leaves his mouth. He’s trusting her with this information. Well, of course he is, but it’s still a big deal. Nelly doesn’t want to disappoint him by falling apart right at the end, but not being able to handle this. She must hold herself together, or else, what will have been the whole point of this?

Nelly just has to remind herself of the world that will be on the other side of this. Of the peace and the joy she and griffin will be able to find. But there’s intruding thoughts even after she nods with furrowed brows to show how deeply she was thinking about this. “But my mother…” She thinks out loud, her eyes wide and beginning to fill with tears. “I never got to properly put her to rest.” Considering there was still a jar in her home that was waiting for it’s final resting place, she knows with these instructions, she’ll leave the woman behind forever, with no send-off. Not when she deserves one so much.

NELLY IS SILENT for a while, which Griffin, despite the frazzled energy in his veins and the impatience and urgency building with every passing second, allows and gives her time to do, knowing it’s a lot to take in. He understands that she, maybe of all people, would need the most just to let all this information sink in. Griffin knows he’s putting a lot on her, giving her so much at once, relying on her to be able to pull herself together enough in the midst of all the sadness and fear and worry they’ve all been feeling of late. He can see all of her emotions warring with one another on her face, and he can almost tell what’s going on in her mind, what she’s attempting to say to herself now as she processes everything. He lets her. But the moment she asks her next question, Griffin feels a drop in his stomach.

The difficult thing about this is that he understands how much it means to Nelly. The dread in answering this is tantamount to the dread in answering DeeZee’s question about the families of Victors being left behind in the districts. It’s almost just like that, except it’s in the Capitol for Nelly — and it’s not even living family for her. He knows how important it is to put something to rest, perhaps especially because of how conflicting and confusing your feelings are toward that very thing, as he’s sure Nelly’s are towards her mother. He inhales a shaky breath as he looks at the woman before him, her eyes wide and beginning to fill very quickly with tears. 

The panic is really starting to creep up again now, realizing that this is it, and he’s got this enormous job to do as soon as they part ways. He’s already trying to come up with a plan, an order to make this easiest, but there’s really no telling where anyone is right now, which makes having enough time essential. Stop by Ten again first to see if Bandi is around, plus get a few of his things he can hide on his person, then on to Pista, and Aldera, before Ivory, then trying for sponsorships, which includes making sure Coco isn’t going to do anything stupid either to try to keep everyone else safe. It’s a lot to accomplish in a short amount of time, considering there’s no guarantee of where he’ll find anyone or if that order will work, especially when the Games are still going on, screens everywhere, still the worry that they’re not all gonna make it that far either. He refuses to let himself even consider the Districts, his family any further right now, because he might just break if he does, and he’s promised he’s gonna do this right. 

All there is to do is try, but that doesn’t make the amount riding on his shoulders feel any lighter. DeeZee’s mind is already far away from here, and he’s practically ready to start sprinting back into Ten as soon as Griffin says that’s all there is. He nods, keeps nodding, appreciative of the shoulder squeeze. Griffin seems to believe in him, says he knows he can do it, that he’s counting on him even though he knows it’s gonna be hard, and that’s gotta be enough to make him believe he can do it, too, now, because there’s not really time for doubt. The way Griffin pats his cheek reminds him of the way his own uncle always says goodbye, the rough but fond gesture, saying more than they can manage in words. It makes DeeZee’s throat feel a little tight, but he pushes past that. “I’ll get it all done,” he says, trying to sound certain, taking a deep breath and stepping back towards Ten. “Yeah, I’ll see you at the spot. Thanks, Griff, for trusting me with all of this. I’ll be there soon.”

The answer isn’t unexpected, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. It’s clear that it’s not necessarily something that Griffin’s thought about fully, or at the very least something that no one’s given him the answer to yet. DeeZee’s well aware he’s one of the rare victors, after all, a victor who’s family surprisingly, despite his vocal hatred of things, hasn’t had to suffer the consequences of his own choices since his Games. No, he’s done a good enough job at fucking them all up and over that the Capitol apparently has never felt the need to intervene and do it themselves. That’s all over now, though. If they’re ever still alive in Ten right now, after the show that DeeZee’s given the past few days, then he’ll be all but signing their death wishes by making his escape with everyone else. There’s no possible way that any of his family is going to make it out of this alright, and they both know that. So DeeZee swallows hard, and nods, trying to ignore the way his throat feels tight thinking about his uncle, what they might put him through when he’s been one of the only people to stick by DeeZee, despite what he had to do to his daughter all those years ago. He can’t even consider his brothers, it hurts too much, and there’s too much to do.

“Well…I hope they can at least go out with a fight, if they’re not already gone. That’s what I’d want, anyway,” he mutters, looking down at nothing in particular, more to himself than Griffin, really. It’s hard to imagine, so he tries to stop his thoughts from going any further down that path right now. He can have that panic once he’s in that room, safe, waiting to leave.  DeeZee looks back up at Griffin, trying to focus through it all. In that moment, he’s very aware that he’s probably wasting time standing here, teetering on the edge of panic, when they should both be out telling the people they need to and getting out. “That’s all she wrote then, yeah? Nothing else I need to pass along besides this massive amount of shit?”

• • •  

DEEZEE’S CLEARLY UPSET by Griffin’s non-answer, though it’s obvious he’d already figured there was really only one way for things to go for those they’d left behind. Griffin’s upset about it too, knowing there are plenty of people back in the districts who don’t deserve what’s coming to them, but if the rebels truly mean to help Panem and not merely their own small collective, then Griffin wants to hold out hope for some kind of plan. Maybe there’s something in place, maybe they’ve got rebel-aligned people planted in the districts too, maybe there’s still a way out for some of them. He knows how much like wishful thinking that sounds, but there must be other facets to this plan too, right? It can’t just be them and their small group. The fight is meant to be for everyone else, for the whole of Panem. There’s got to be something.

But then again, what does he know? He’s only one cog in this machine, getting another cog to start whirling. DeeZee asks if there’s anything more, and Griffin shakes his head, that feeling of impatience and panic once again starting to creep up the back of his neck now that their conversation is coming to an end. After this, it’ll be time to go; he’ll head back up to Twelve, and then the real, harder work begins. “That’s it, kiddo. That’s all of it,” he says, squeezing DeeZee on the shoulder. “I’m trusting you to pass all that along, hard as it will be to. But I know you can do it. I’m counting on you.” He fixes him a look, then brings his hand up to firmly pat DeeZee’s cheek, before stepping away from him. “I’ll see you later at the safe spot, yeah?”

Griffin has been easing her into this for days now. Nelly has been struggling with everything for a long time that this isn’t as disastrous as it could be. She can see the frantic look in his eyes and she wants to be good for him. Wants to be collected and understanding but Nelly’s not fully there, hasn’t been since the interviews. But she’s listening. Everyone needs to leave, like, get far away from here. That’s what she thinks he means.

She has to look away from him. Cast her eyes down, but she takes the hand that rubs her wrist and holds onto it tightly to keep her tethered to the ground. It was fast, it was sudden. They might have been inching towards this but those inches only took her so far and now she’s being shoved over the edge. “Where will we go? And what if… what if they don’t make it, and we can’t see them?” Is it better to miss their deaths or will be like they have abandoned them? She can’t decide which is more heartbreaking to her. 

Finally, she looks back up to Griffin. “This is scary, Griffin.”

• • •

AS MUCH AS Griffin has tried to ease her into this the past days, nothing can fully take away the fact that this is all coming in so suddenly. Griffin had felt it himself, in that room with Plutarch earlier today, and he’s certain Silver had too. The pressure and the responsibility were heavy on both their shoulders, having to spread the word to as many loved ones in the tower as they could, but perhaps it was precisely that same pressure, that weight of responsibility, that kept them from spiraling into what-ifs. Griffin sees it happening to Nelly now, and he doesn’t blame her when he knows how unused to this sort of thing she is, but he needs to keep her grounded, otherwise they’ll be getting very little done. 

“Nelly… Nelly, we can’t afford to think like that right now,” he says, moving in closer, squeezing tightly against her palm, one hand on her hair. “I know it’s scary, and I know that things could fail, but that’s precisely why we have to do everything in our power to make sure this ends well for us all. Okay? We can send in last minute sponsors for those in the arena, make sure they hold on until we’re able to pick them up.” Of course he’d thought about it all going down in flames; in the interim periods going from floor to floor and person to person, stuck inside the eerie silence of the elevator, he’d considered that. But consider is all he can do because he knows that once he starts to take that seriously, he’ll falter, and there will be no going back from that.

“Now I need you to listen very carefully to what I have to say,” he says, inching even closer, before proceeding to give her quiet instructions to the safe meeting place.

It’s probably one of the most fucked up conversations he’s ever had, which is saying something considering how most conversations with him have gone since he came out of his Games. But it’s a shit ton of information thrown at him at once, with responsibility that probably shouldn’t be on shoulders as chaotic and unpredictable as his own, along with dozens of warning of the unknown, and very real danger of what will happen if even part of this haphazard and disorganized plan don’t go the way they’re meant to. And how could they, when they have such little time, and no real way to communicate with each other openly and all at once? DeeZee lets out a deep sigh, but nods, heart pounding hard still, but determined to do what Griffin says, to try their best to make it all happen. 

The revelation that Griffin gives him about the after is a fucking shock to say the least, though, enough so that he’s silent for a moment, stunned, after Griffin holds up his fingers, the message clear enough. He has to wonder how long he’s known, and how it’s even possible, but those aren’t questions for now. Hard to focus with so much shit suddenly hitting him, though. “Fuck, really? How? Fuck, okay, what the fuck…this whole time? And they didn’t think to…fuck,” he can’t help the cursing, stopping himself over and over again from the words he really wants to say, the questions he really wants to ask. It’s both hopeful and terrifying to consider that Thirteen exists out there, that it has this whole time maybe, and they’ve been working on a rebellion, but doing it at a snail’s pace. The terrifying part is the unknown, knowing that that means he’s not gonna be going back to Ten, back home, none of them are, and that the people back home likely aren’t going to be making it to Thirteen, since he assumes they’re not planning on stopping in every District along the way to pick up loved ones. He thinks of his parents, his uncle, his brothers, how he’s failed them so deeply already, how they deserve a spot in safety way fucking more than he does. “It’s not fair that we get to…what about my brothers, my family? What about Ten? There’s nothing we can do for them…is there?”

• • •  

IT’S HARD FOR him to have to dump so much information on DeeZee this way, especially knowing it’s not exactly easy information to swallow either, but he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. There’s no delicate way to put any of this, and there’s no time to take things slow. If they all mean to get things done as quickly as they can ( and they have to ), this is how it’s got to go. And, he assumes, this is how it’ll have to go between DeeZee and all those he has to tell too. He can see it in the younger Victor’s face, hear the strain in his voice. Learning that Thirteen is out there, has been out there all along, is neither a picnic nor a walk in the park. He can’t blame DeeZee for swearing as much and for struggling to process all these revelations. “Yeah. Yeah, I know,” says Griffin, nodding quickly. “I get the feeling, kid.”

And he does, truly he does, but what DeeZee goes on to ask him next ends up, admittedly, catching him more off guard than he’d expected it would. He asks Griffin about the ones left behind in the districts, about family, and something aches inside his chest, realizing he hadn’t quite considered any of that before now. Neither he nor Ostro have family left for them in the districts, and with Zero being in the arena, he doubts there are any others left for the android beyond the ones in this tower. Griffin is in a similar boat. He has one more fellow he’s worried about left in Twelve, but things have been so grim and dismal that he’d all but assumed they’d gotten his father figure captured or killed already anyway. Hearing DeeZee point it out now, and recognizing just how many the guy has left in the districts, Griffin can’t help but look down. “I’m sorry,” he says, almost ashamed to look at him, knowing this will be the hardest of all to swallow. “I don’t think that’s something I can really answer.” He sighs. “And even if I could, I doubt it’d be something you’d want to hear.”

This shouldn’t come as such a major surprise to her, should it? He’s been trying to warn her that something been going on under the radar for a while now, and here it is, finally taking place. That’s what he’s talking about, right? The rebels finally told him something and now they have to all have to get up and listen to the orders they’re given. 

Her face is in his hands and it means she can only look at him, she can’t twist and turn and it’s not as though she’d want to but she feels frozen. Her stomach has sunk into her feet and her skin has grown cold. “I need to leave?” She repeats, her hand reaching to take hold of his wrist, thumb rubbing the soft skin where his pulse hides. “What about the Games? Did I miss something?”

• • •

IT’S HARD TO tell if Nelly is still taking it all in, or if she’s simply frozen on the spot; Griffin can’t blame her for either. It was easy to tell DeeZee, when the kid’s been nothing but ready for something like this for so long; easy to explain when he’d been more or less set to try and take everything in, going so far as to stopping himself from reacting too much so he could focus on the details. Griffin had known it wouldn’t be that way with the rest; there’s a reason why he’d gone specifically to him first. Having known that, he now tries to keep Nelly steady, tries to stay calm as he casually attempts to explain further.

There’s an enormous sense of relief that comes with Griffin telling him in the same breath not to offer himself up to any more sponsors like that right now, and that Coco in on their side, has been for a long time, it sounds like. It’s not a surprise, of course, having known her for a long time now, having seen why she was sent in as a replacement in the first place, the way the last one in her shoes had been too vocal in their support. Coco showed the same since the beginning, but she did it in quiet ways. Understanding that fucking Capitolites rarely had for victors and those from the Districts, gentleness that isn’t really taught to people in her position usually. He’s glad to know he’s put his trust in the right person, but it also makes him realize that when he asks for her help, he needs to make sure she’s still keeping herself safe, too. He couldn’t take it if she got captured because of him. “Coco, okay, thank fuck, I’ll see what she can do…” he mutters, mostly to himself, mind still racing with all of the information that Griffin is throwing at him, never very good at remembering details, but knowing how important it is right now.

He tells him to listen close and he does. He gets it, the ones that aren’t as safe, because of what they’ve said, or done, or who they’re associated with, need to take the back way in, the others can take the front, it makes sense. With no concrete plan about timing thanks to so many unknown factors, though, he’s not sure how they’re gonna move in separate waves, because he’s also not positive many of them are gonna be willing to go immediately hearing that they won’t see the end of the Games. “I know, I get it. It’s fucked up, but I get it. I don’t know how the fuck we’re all gonna manage it without something going down, though, Griff. Even if we’re careful, we’re all only human,” he says, when Griffin is finally done, pulling him down by the neck so they’re closer again. It’s the only way he really knows how to put his fears into words safely. There’s another fear, the fear of what happens if he ends up in the line of something unpredictable and has to give into his emotion, but there’s no time to linger on it. “You know shit is fucked when you’ve gotta count on an Ashfrost for something this important. But I promise, nothing reckless, I can manage that for six hours…what the fuck comes after, though, where comes after?” 

• • •  

THE RELIEF IN DeeZee’s face is palpable, and Griffin hates that this is what being in the Capitol’s pushed him to do all these years. Of course, Griffin’s one to talk, having relied on the bottle himself to stay sane on some level for over two decades. Thankfully, though, they’re both here now, closer to escape than they have ever been since they got here, so close to finding release from the things that have gripped them and have had them in their clutches this whole time. Griffin reaches up to pat him on the shoulder as he takes that information in. And then, not long after, the plans are unfolded to him. DeeZee’s reactions are understandable, but Griffin barely has time to quell his very valid worries himself, and he’s only glad DeeZee’s able to exercise some understanding and self-control so he doesn’t have to. 

“I know,” Griffin whispers back just as DeeZee pulls him down by the neck again, unable to risk talking in volumes louder than this for fear of listening ears and watching eyes. “How do you think me and the android felt when we were pulled aside for it?” As much as it looks like he and Silver are the ones calling the shots, they really aren’t, and the two of them have had to process and plan on the fly too, having been given all this information so suddenly, with the added pressure of being the ones to relay it clearly and correctly enough the first time so others can pass it along too. “There’s only so much planning you can do on such short notice. We’re all just going to have to try our best. And as for where...” Quickly after, to DeeZee’s question — a very important one at that — Griffin holds up both hands, one finger raised on one, and three raised on the other. He hopes that’s clear enough before adding, “It’s somewhere out there. They’re working with us. Like-minded folk.”

There’s a small comfort in the mutual understanding, and they’re glad that Griffin seems ready to accept their inability to stay behind for too long. Knowing how Griffin can be, there is a hint of worry that if something went wrong with someone else, and he had the ability to stop it in favor of taking the damage himself and risking not making it, he might do it in the heat of the moment, but they have to trust that even then he’ll remember the importance Plutarch placed on both of them managing to make it back here. They can’t think like that now, though, so they nod curtly. “Then we go,” they repeat. “Yes, I know Robyn and Twig will do everything to get them into the group. It’s all settled then.” There are a hundred other things they could speak about, more detailed plans, coming up with just how each individual District should be getting to this meeting point and when, and so on and so forth, but they don’t have time to linger on the details unfortunately, as much as Silver prefers specificity in everything they do. With six hours already ticking away, they’ll just both have to trust each other, and the people they delegate other tasks to, to see past the panic and terror well enough to make the intelligent and safe choices. Trust when failure could mean death isn’t so simple, but it’s all they have. 

“All of the important bits, all that we can afford to take the time for at the moment. It’s time to get to it, I believe. If anything goes wrong, and there’s time, send a message through an Avox; Three’s is trustworthy, and so is Ten’s. I’ll do the same, if no one else is around to manage it, but hopefully it won’t come to that…” Silver nods, looking at Griffin fully, perhaps for the first time in the rush of conversation, static so loud in their ears. They pause, perhaps a little awkwardness suddenly seeping in through the frantic energy, realizing now that it’s time to part ways, and if something does go wrong for either of them, this could be the last moment they speak to each other. It’s not productive to think that way, though, when there’s so much work to be done. So instead, Silver holds out their less injured hand, still clad in the gloves Dawn made them, and gives him a nod. “I suppose I’ll see you in a little less than six hours, then, Griffin.”

• • •

IT’S HARD TO shake the feeling that they’re missing something, even as if they’ve planned meticulously, even as they’ve tried to cover bases with who to tell, then who those people are meant to tell. Difficult not to feel like maybe there’s still something they can get from this, something more they can push for, but Griffin and Silver both know quite well that there simply isn’t time to linger. He’s appreciative, at least, of the option for sending a message later on, in case they think of something in the heat of the moment, and takes note of the Avoxes Silver mentions. Griffin nods, “All right. Okay. Good to know.” In this moment, Silver is looking fully at him now too, and Griffin can practically see the panic seeping out of them in waves and static. They’re thinking the same thing. At this moment, most if not all bases have been covered, but maybe there’s something more, something they’re not seeing...

Griffin shakes his head rather suddenly, a quick flick of the head, trying to get himself out of that unhealthy spiral of paranoia. Silver seems ready to go, albeit with some level of hesitance too, just like him, but they can’t afford to spend more time here, can’t afford to sit still for longer when there’s so much more to do. Silver ends it for them with something that’s more or less a ‘see you later’, coupled with an offer for a handshake. Griffin takes it but, suddenly hyper aware of what’s been done to Silver’s hands, hidden as they are behind those gloves of theirs, he keeps his touch light and brief. He won’t lie and say he doesn’t feel awkward about any of this at all; he’s feeling plenty awkward, in the midst of that franticness and panic. “Less than six hours,” he says anyway, before deciding to head toward the direction with the exit opposite where he thinks Silver will go. He gives them a nod, curt but determined.

“Good luck, Silver.”

Suddenly she’s wrapped in his arms and she feels the blood drain out of her body. She knew this day was going to come. She’d been mentally preparing herself. Griffin had told her that they were working their way up to this. But right now? And with so little time? Her hand places on the back of his head and she lets out a long and strangled breath. “I’m not sure where they are, Griffin.” Her hands then falls to grab his arm tightly, giving it a squeeze. “Maybe watching the Game?”

She pulls away from him, trying to get him to look her in the eyes. “Is everything okay? What’s going to happen, Griffin?”

• • •

WATCHING THE GAMES, Nelly responds, but there’s so many places where they could be doing that from. He’s going to have to check the rest of the common area, their individual suites, and any number of watching rooms scattered everywhere about this floor and all the rest. God, he hates how scattered they all are, and he knows he couldn’t have controlled that when clearly everyone can move about anywhere within this tower, but that makes this so much harder than it already is. He squeezes Nelly slightly, hoping it’ll help calm his own frazzled nerves, keep him from sinking too deeply into thinking about things he can’t control at all, but then she pulls away from him. He’d felt her breath, had heard how strangled it had sounded, and now, he sees the look on her face, frightened and unsure.

Griffin wills himself not to panic when there are so many others, Nelly most of all, depending on him to be level-headed, and he needs to be after having already spent time planning for this with Silver as meticulously as the two of them could. With a sigh, he puts both his hands on either side of Nelly’s face. “Everything will be. We just need to make sure we’re all able to get ourselves and our loved ones to safety,” he practically whispers, voice wavering slightly. “I’m about to give you instructions, Nelly, okay? To get to someplace safe.” He presses his forehead against hers but keeps his eyes open. “I won’t be too far behind.”

He kind of forgets for a second that he’s hugging Griffin, maybe a little too tightly, too, for his own good, considering one of his arms is made of metal, but there are too many thoughts running through his mind suddenly to worry about things like that, when they’re going to leave, when there’s a shit ton to do to get that far even. But this is also a reminder of something he’s thought himself a thousand times before. He’s got a hundred questions, but he’s meant to be a soldier, not a leader, and here he is with a commander giving him the exact orders he needs to follow. He just has to do it, no questions asked. Griffin mentions a room to get to, two ways to get there, that they need to make it before six hours are up, that he’s in charge of Six, Ten and Eleven. It’s a lot to take in, and he finds himself clinging onto the words, repeating them over and over, knowing he can’t let himself worry about the rest, he’s got to trust that Griffin already has plans, probably with the robot, to take care of the other Districts. 

“Okay, I can do that, I promise,” he mutters breathlessly, still stunned by everything he’s hearing. And if that wasn’t enough to make him panic, the fact that they won’t get to see how the Games ends nearly has him arguing with Griffin. “What the fuck, we can’t just… Fuck, no, okay, it’s what we gotta do, right?” Deezee breathes, before Griffin finally pulls back, and takes his hand. He watches Griffin draw a map on the palm of his hand, how to get to the meeting point it seems like, and his heart is still racing, but he tries to play it off, tries to act like this is all normal. “I don’t know if I can fuck another sponsor into sending a pittance in, but I should probably try, huh? Not really much else for me to do with Ten out of the running but make sure someone else wins.” His voice is serious, even in the disguise of humor; he hopes Griffin can tell that means he’s willing to do that, too, make sure the people he cares about get out first, too.

• • •  

THERE’S A MOMENT where Griffin is worried that DeeZee’s going to let his emotions get the better of him here, but he catches it himself and stops his own train of thought before it gets there. Griffin lets himself feel proud for a moment. It’s what we gotta do, he says, and Griffin wants to commend him for that, for recognizing how important it is despite how difficult, but there’s just no time. He can only hope DeeZee’s next conversations will be as easy as this because Griffin knows, with what’s in store for him up in Twelve, that he won’t be able to say the same for himself. DeeZee, of course, seems ready to do what needs to be done, but with that comes a hefty amount of moderation. They all want to do their part, and if it means DeeZee has to sell his soul one more time to ensure safety for the Tributes, then Griffin has to draw the line there. “Don’t. We’ve got other helpers in the cause. Your stylist friend is one of them. Maybe you can get an in through her.” 

Before he’s able to ask more, only because there’s so little time left and they all need to be moving into their tasks, Griffin keeps going. “Now listen close. People like you, noisy ones, and you know what I mean by that, have to go through here,” he says as he points to a particular pathway on DeeZee’s palm, before moving onto another. “Your more innocent friends can pass directly through here. You see why we’ve got to have separate waves coming in through different times and places. And I know you can understand why we have to move now and trust that the Tributes can hold out long enough before we’re able to pick them up.” He recognizes that this is putting a lot on DeeZee, but he trusts him, utterly and completely, to do his best. “I’m counting on you, kid.” He clasps the back of the DeeZee’s neck, gently pushing him down towards him. “But don’t stay out too long, and don’t do anything reckless."

It’s rather simple to forget any of the lingering bitterness and animosity that they still haven’t fully confronted yet in this moment. There’s no time for personal feelings just now, and that, mercifully, is a path that Silver has always been skilled at following. Despite the way their heart is beating much too fast, the static loud in their ears, they find it simple to set aside any emotions for how many people will be counting on them both to manage this. It means they need to trust Griffin, and they do, for much the same reason that Plutarch said he chose the two of them; he’s as willing to do anything for those he cares for as they are, and yet he also can understand when it’s time to let others do the more dangerous tasks. So in the same way he seems willing to trust and count on them, they’re prepared to continue to do the same.

“Yes, Slate did his best to make it clear that he’s still on our side. I’ll make certain he knows now is the time to put his choice to play along again to use,” they nod, making a mental note of that, although they don’t think their mind will forget something so dire, unless the distortion ups its cruelty suddenly. “As will I. Exceptionally carefully. We can’t wait until the last moment, though, no matter how much we might want to personally assure they all make it,” Silver adds, knowing Griffin is aware of it, but feeling the need to put it to words for their own sake, too. No time to play martyrs, despite the penance they want for. “I’m going to try to send him the tools he’ll need to do the job and keep others protected, as well as how much longer they have to keep things up. It’s just as Plutarch said, in the absence of the tributes killing each other, they’ll turn the Arena against them. Food and water might help them keep going, but it won’t stop that. They’ll likely need weapons.” And even then, they’re not sure that would be enough.

• • •

SLATE’S SPOKEN WITH Silver then too. At this point, with several people checking in on him ( Griffin doesn’t doubt Dawn will want to, even with that sudden distance between them ), it’s got to be impossible that he’d remain seated for the rest of this, just twiddling his thumbs and waiting. He hasn’t got a Tribute to support anymore, and trying for others when he’s from District 2 might rouse suspicion, but Slate had said to trust him, and Griffin’s out of other options with him. If the man wants to try something, then the time to do so is now. He says nothing, though, and merely nods once Silver promises to commit it to memory. But they continue talking and remind Griffin of Plutarch’s words: It’s no time to play martyrs, and staying out too long and getting themselves captured too would be detrimental to the plan — it’s clear to him, of course, that Silver understands the nuances behind it. “I know. By the end of our tasks, we can do one quick sweep in our respective areas, and then...” He does a cross between a shrug and a shake of the head. “Then we go.”

@givcnup​

It had been a little while since she’d seen Griffin. She’d been sitting on the Twelfth floor trying to help those she loved, when the door open and he came in in a rush. “Why do you look like that?” She says as she stands, remarking Griffin’s rather frazzled appearance. He always looked a little disheveled, but this was more than typical.

TWELVE IS ALMOST practically deserted by the time he reaches it, and Griffin feels a lot like cursing under his breath for this. Why couldn’t they all just be in one place so he could tell them easily and get them out of her sooner, right? Immediately, he goes from the common area and into the private rooms, deciding to start with Nelly first so he can at least have one more adult with him while this is happening. He has very little doubt that Fava will want to ask questions, won’t want to leave without knowing what’s going to happen to Wren, would likely be kicking and screaming before he can find a way to get her downstairs. He whispers a silent wish into the ether that Nelly will take this sudden news well, too.

Shit seems to be moving in the arena at least, but he’s not really feeling much relief as it is. What he feels is restless, what he feels is the need to do something, or else risk going insane and breaking even more shit than he already has in Ten’s suite, while waiting around for his own hopelessness to turn back into rage. He doesn’t know where Bandi is, and she would probably tell him to sit tight for now, that he won’t do any good by causing another scene like yesterday’s, but she’s not there to stop him, so he figures he might as well head back down to the sponsors, see if there’s anyone else who might send in some better medicine if he gives himself up again, because at least it feels like trying to help. DeeZee doesn’t make it that far, though, before Griffin steps out of the elevator, and immediately pulls him into a fucking hug, which confuses the shit out of him.

“You going soft, old man?” he asks, but the answer is there before he can fully finish the words. And it makes it heart start beating, makes panic rise, not entirely sure what the fuck it means that they’re leaving, but knowing this must’ve been what they were waiting for. The silence is stunned for a second, as DeeZee finally puts a hand around Griffin, too, half returning the hug that’s clearly meant as a means to an end. “Fuck, are you serious? We’re getting out of here? What does that even mean? Fuck,” he curses under his breath, a damn miracle he keeps his voice down even relatively given the shock of the news. “Okay. Okay, what do you need? Who do I need to tell? I’m telling Pista. Bandi. Aldera, of course. Fuck. Tell me what to do, what do I tell them?”

IT’S TIMES LIKE this ( utterly rare instances ) that he’s thankful for how short he is in comparison to most others here. DeeZee’s height does more than enough to shield his face from view, keep any particularly skilled Peacekeepers at a distance from reading lips, giving him time to very quickly tell him what he needs to before the hug lasts for too long and causes suspicion. “There’s a room you can pass through either by an entryway through the kitchen or by using a more direct approach. Your friends need to be there before six hours are up,” he says, not caring to slow down too much, hoping DeeZee is listening carefully. “Tell Six, Ten, Eleven. Let us take care of the rest.” He doesn’t bother to elaborate on who us is either, knowing the kid is smart enough to put two and two together, figure out who else is in this movement with them.

“Arrange any last minute sponsorships you need to because none of us are going to see how this Quell ends, but we need to make sure they’re given more than a fighting chance before help arrives for them too.” Easier to tell DeeZee this without worrying about him panicking further, knowing he doesn’t quite have a direct loved one in the Arena, harsh as that is to think, and as soon as that’s done, Griffin breaks away and makes a show out of patting his shoulder — right before taking his non-bionic hand, and, with a pen from his pocket, very quickly sketching something out on the Victor’s palm: two separate ways into the safe place, hastily drawn from memory, as best as he can.

The moment the door closes, it feels as if they have a clock tick, tock-ing in their mind, and they tuck the paper with the names inside their jacket pocket, before looking down at the watch on their left wrist, and setting an alarm for five and a half hours with a bit of struggle. They wish desperately they could write in their notebook, so much information rattling around in their mind, and so many things that need to be done. No time to waste, though, they’re glad Griffin understands that need as well. Of course, Twelve is his priority, just as the lower Districts are theirs. They nod along with his plan, no reason to contradict any of it.

“Yes, of course. And I do trust Ashfrost to make certain others are safe, it’s a logical plan. What does he love more than a ridiculously distracting fight?” they say, without any hint of irony, but perhaps a tough of something grim. There’s a high chance that in the process of giving Ashfrost those responsibilities, he’ll inevitably cause the distractions they’ll need on his own, and Silver knows that Griffin is intelligent enough to realize that, too. No need to linger just now with that settled, though. “Yes, I’ll take care of Two, Four, Five and Seven; Robyn will be more than willing to help. We need to make certain they don’t all follow the same path at the same time, though. The most obviously connected to us and treasonous thought should arrive through the kitchen passage, the safer amongst us can take the way we came in. We need to push the most in danger to arrive first. I’ll tell Robyn to send Swann immediately, she can help keep things in order here.”

• • •

DESPITE ALL THOSE years of spite and stubbornness, of feeling betrayed and not wanting to be mature enough to let time dull the animosity into something that could finally lead him to forgiveness, Griffin can say for a fact that he’s glad it’s Silver here with them now. They’ve always been quick on their feet, always been intelligent and calm, sometimes to the point of being annoying about it, but it’s working to their advantage now, with logic dictating their every next move, and he’s pleased for how little beating around the bush there is. “All right. Good. Thank you,” he says quickly, not wanting to focus on his gratitude, and right afterward, he adds, “I’m counting on your connections too.” For how readily Silver accepts his offer to give DeeZee a larger role, Griffin, too, respects their decision to assign certain important tasks to Gazel. If there’s anyone who can get through to Swann the best, it’ll be them, and Griffin knows it’s going to be a good role for her, to keep things in order here, once people have arrived. He thinks it would be a good role for Nelly too.

“I assume you know about what’s going on with Slate? I might come by later, ask him if he can use his connections one more time to ensure the safety of those left in the Arena. If you get to him first, tell him that.” The man needs to get off his ass and produce results, is what Griffin wants to say, but it’s unfortunately not the time to be devolving into such talk. Instead, he focuses on what else they can do to make sure all their bases are covered, both for the people here, and the ones left in the Arena. “I’ll try to stay out for as long as I can to make sure as many people are accounted for once the rest are secured. Maybe get a few more sponsorships in too. Anything you think Zero and his crew need?”