you can't catch me now.

"Yes, but beyond that Lucy Gray. Beyond here." he corrected, hand gently squeezing her left shoulder, "Beyond you." Adding with a smile as he leaned down a little closer to her, brows raising at her as he essentially was grouping her in with the beauty out here before gaze shifted towards the sky at the birds. Staring to observe the mockingjays before attention is shifted back on the curly haired brunette, staying silent ; blues traveling over her as she spoke about how every now and then could be spared for a moment of goodness rather than struggle and destruction.

Beyond you. why would that matter? Beyond these walls was safety and freedom that she didn't have since she and the rest of her covey were forced into district twelve.

"How do you always see the world in a light such as that, Lucy Gray? The world around us is terrible." Sure, looking at it from the peaceful surroundings of the greenery and the birds singing their harmonious songs was great serenading out here in twelve as they sat in a bed of grass– but what was beyond those tall mountains? Chaos, destruction. He'd seen too much of it's destruction from the war, from the earliest of his first memories as a child to believe it to be anything short from the word she uses to label their world.

" terrible ? i wouldn't say that. the capitol . . . now, they could be but out here, in the woods where I have no responsibilities, it's pretty great, " lucy's words come out in a confident but soft tone. only for him to hear as an audience.

her eyes close as mockingjays fly above and create the most intricate and unique melody, along with her heartbeat as the drums.

“it ain’t that i’m against it.” he corrected as he looked upon the brunette who was meant to give him advice, mentor him to survival. in a game that was unpredictable. his jaw tightened, “and in the moment, it could mean life and death and i’ll accept it.” he offered while raising his hands with a sort of ease. “sure, but at the end of the day it’s still someone you’re gonna have to kill, and if it’s an alliance you may as well stab ‘em in the back and say thanks for the help but i don’t need ya anymore.” he shrugged. 

seemed cowardly, cold, he wasn’t that person. he would survive on skill and instinct, and whatever luck and intelligence he could muster. if that wasn’t enough he’d just be another tribute lost. another name whispered, remembered only by his parents and girlfriend for a few years, forgotten as a sacrifice to the price of war and nothing more. “just cause we’re the same district don’t make us friends, don’t make us allies, if one of us even wants to win, the other three gotta be dead. end of story. so any alliance i make is gonna be brief in the moment and nothing more.” 

𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙸𝚂𝙽'𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝚂𝚃𝚈𝙻𝙴. she could relate to that. similar to her own words to her mentor years ago. " all of what you're saying is exactly how you should go about things. i couldn't kill someone from twelve in my games . . . " not my district. not my home. just district twelve. because her home would never be in the districts or the capitol. and she hoped that one day she could get away from all of this.

" i'm not suggesting anythin' like that . . . it'll only prolong the inevitable. it'll hurt less if you keep your distance when those canons go off. create your own safe . . . secure place and wait out or don't. fight if you want to. if that's your style. or don't. wait it out. " lucy gray feels as though she should add more. because what kind of advice is that? " back in my games there were less than twenty-four by the time we stepped foot into the arena . . . and even less seconds after they began. "

things had changed since lucy’s time from what he knew of her which was limited. victors were properly fed, not corralled like animals. the games were more interesting of the tributes made it to the games, if they were cared for, and nourishment given. he didn’t know lucy gray from eve really, no one did and now she’d have four tributes all wanting to know the secrets of success in the arena, thing was haymitch wasn’t actually gonna beg her to tell him how to win. his odds were what they were, end of the day it didn’t much matter did it? it would take a little smarts, a little skill, and a whole lot of luck and he knew it. it was luck that may help them survive the likes of any career district. 

he stared towards one of the last meals intended for them and reached out, popping something quickly into his mouth. may as well reap the awards of dying, right? ‘thank you for your sacrifice. you deserve it for the rebellion of your parents, parents, parents.’ his eyes rolled at the thought before he finally saw her as she came towards him where he had settled himself near the back, he was not going to make friends with people he’d either have to kill or watch die. “come to tell me all your wisdom and secrets?” he asked as he picked up another grape.

𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸 𝙰𝙼. 𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴. yet again on the train. sending children to their deaths. because there hasn't been a winner...no, not a winner, a victor---since her games. and so it is like a rehearsed piece, ready to be shown to the capitol and paraded for all to see. like a song on repeat that doesn't even sound like one anymore. that's what the games did to her. and with the quarter quell there are even less of a chance of district twelve bringing home a victor.

" are you? are you? coming to the tree? " she murmurs in a sing-song voice as she makes her way through train car after train car. all empty. three of the four tributes remain at the front of the train. allying themselves as if all could come out alive . . . but they'd turn on each other. just like the years that have passed. only one can survive after all.

one. one tribute missing. her song ends and she searches. searches for the missing male tribute. surely he didn't run off --- though she wouldn't blame him . . .but she's also witnessed what happens to those who run. they're all expendable. replacable. just like her . . . eventually . hopefully there will be a day where she doesn't have to get on this train and lie to their faces. that they could win in the games . . . no, no one wins the games. no victor ever has truly won.

"You saved my life, and you could have ran away." He's still perplexed by it. Why bother risking her own life, when she could have gotten away? Marcus was still missing, but the others had been gunned down. Even if she hadn't run, she gained injuries for aiding him, injuries that had not been treated by an actual doctor, but by a competent veterinarian. After he had been discharged, the first place he stopped was the zoo, to check on her, bring her something to eat (thankfully, there had been food to pocket at the hospital, along with some water, but not enough. Never enough). After he offered her the food, passing it through the bars, taking the now usual seat on the other side of the bars, another favor called in by Dr. Gaul to allow him to visit and feed his tribute, he knows it isn't the time to discuss that.

𝚁𝚄𝙽 𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚈 . . . and go where? it did cross her mind for half-a-second as her boots crossed where they once entered but then quickly she shoved it away. she wouldn't get far . . . and it's too early for her escape. deep down in her heart she knew that she would escape this reality, whether in the arena or if she managed to win it all, she'd head north and be free of the suffocating hold that the capitol had on a girl that wished to be free.

her hands shake at the thought of the chaos that they were both in hours before. the white coats wouldn't tell her anything. the other tributes . . . the ones alive didn't know any more than she did. and for an even harder hit to her gut, a veterinarian was sent to care for them. not a doctor. no, they were in a zoo after all. they were animals to entertain the crowd. and so she shall. until her final breath or the mockingjay sings. whichever comes first.

a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings for when your muse needs a little TLC. change & alter as needed.

THE HURT:

“Nah, it’s not that bad. I’ve had worse.”

“I don’t think I can walk that far… or at all.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”

“Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just—I’m just really tired.”

“I don’t need a break. I’m okay.”

“It was my fault. It was all my fault.”

“I think I need help.”

“So, I don’t think I’m dying, or anything, and it’s probably not that serious, but… I’m kinda bleeding. A lot.”

“Is the room spinning right now, or is that just me?”

“No, I’m okay, I just… I hit my head. Really hard. I’ll be okay, just give me a second.”

“I’m not sick! I’m fine!”

“No, I don’t think any of my bones are broken, or anything like that. Just bad bruises.”

“Yeah, but you should see the other guy.”

“I’m fine. This just happens sometimes. It’s normal for me.”

“I’ve got a headache.”

“Seriously, though, I’m fine! Stop making such a big deal out of it!”

“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need your help, and I definitely don’t need your pity. Fuck off.”

“Please tell me I don’t look as bad as I feel.”

“I think I’m running a fever.”

“So, what’s the prognosis, Doc? Am I gonna live?”

“Stop fussing over me! I’m not a baby!”

“Can I stay with you tonight? I just… really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“No, I-I’m okay. It was just a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

“I… can’t actually remember the last time I had something to eat.”

“You shouldn’t be here. You’ll get sick, too.”

THE COMFORT:

“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I think you’d better take a break.”

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You did everything you could.”

“You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here for you if you’ll just let me in.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Don’t ever let yourself believe that there is.”

“You really don’t realize just how many people love you, do you?”

“If you’re not going to take care of yourself, at least let me do it for you!”

“I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”

“You’re not alone, baby. You never have been.”

“Let’s get you some food.”

“You’re dead on your feet, poor thing. Come on, you need some sleep.”

“Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

“Tell me where it hurts.”

“How many times have I told you to be more careful?!”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m right here, okay? I’m not gonna leave you. I’m never gonna leave you.”

“Oh, honey, you’re safe now. I promise. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Go ahead and take a shower. I’ll fix you something to eat.”

“What happened to you, baby?”

“I’ll kill that bastard. I’ll kill him for what he did to you.”

“You look like shit, man.”

“Whoa, whoa, take it easy! You got pretty banged up back there, and you don’t want to go making yourself worse.”

“I’m not trying to baby you. It’s called taking care of my friends.”