make it pretty

Dale grimaced at the reminder, shook his head. “I’m not sure why they skipped out on the usual boots this time around, but it’s a grave error on their part” he said, another shake of his head to show his clear disappointment. “Nobody wants to see toes poking out in ultra HD”

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"Well, you should definitely speak up,” he said. “Since you’re the one whose network it’s showing on and all that. You’re in control, right?”

Addy nodded her agreement with Satchel’s statement, because yeah, it was a lot. me too. she signed it while looking away, for a moment, just taking in the hallway they were in. how was your day? you good?

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“Oh, just a normal day,” he said, trying to figure out what normal even was at this point. “I actually signed a contract to do a fashion show in August. Will you be in the Capitol? I’d love to hire you for the night, so you can see it.”

“Host get togethers, redo Lycorous and I’s house, host book club.” Though she knew she was probably the only one that actually read the books. “What about you, Satchel? Any big fashion shows I should keep my eye open for?”

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“Sounds good,” he said. “I helped redo Abel’s house a few months back, it was fun. What style are you going for?” He missed being able to pick out pieces for Abel, and particularly for the nursery. Now he had to shop on a budget for himself, though with every passing month the budget got higher and higher as he saved up more and more. “I do have a show I’m doing with a few others in August, and hoping to do another solo one in November, depending on how things go. Definitely keep an eye out for it, though. The hope is you won’t be able to miss it.”

Addy smiled a bit when she saw satchel, finally coming out and about and returning to her job. she was glad to see him, though. she waved quickly, before he asked his question. can we… that was a lot. she had, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that, but she also wanted to move on from it, to not dwell in whatever had just happened. i did. it hurt. 

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He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry,” he said. He wasn’t sure if she meant that she’d been hurt by Battenberg’s fake death, or by the fact that it hadn’t been true. Based on everything the president and her government had done to Addy, he could imagine it was the latter. “It was a lot, I’m sorry.”

“Uh…” He’d known he’d get stylist questions that he’d have to field, but he hadn’t been expecting so many and for them to get so detailed. “Well I don’t,” he sidestepped, “and doesn’t it have to do with their personality more than anything?”

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“Yeah, I mean, of course,” he said, “but still I’m sure you have some ideas. What’d you show at your interview for this job?” He had to have interviewed, right? Satchel had been through several rounds of interviews just to get his internship.

“if you had to pick one, which one of them would be winning ??” percy asked, and it was spoken a little too indifferently. like she was back at the academy, and these were the usual topics of conversation, however morbid. betting on tributes with whatever pocket money they had, though it was more about the honor of being reasonable at guessing who would be the victor than it was about the money, like it was a sign of ability. another competition to be won. this was a little different, still. she wasn’t asking satchel for an analysis – just a preference. perhaps that was more cruel.

“it doesn’t help to have someone else in there. it just means someone gets left behind. it’s not bloody maths, only one person gets out of there. even if its district nine, it’s not gonna be both of them,” percy pointed out, seemed a little affected, a little desperate to prove that notion. in a way, however, it wasn’t all bad – she’d not even dismissed the idea that it could be district nine entirely, that satchel could indeed end up with a victor.

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“is there such a thing as like, poetically getting beaten up ?? because you’re well on your way to it,” percy responded. truth was, however, that she was tired. that satchel had made a comment that only made her feel more sick and should’ve spurred her own beyond just her words, but she couldn’t even look at him, lift a brow or a finger. instead, her eyes were focused on the screen still, and amidst this anger and disgust swimming in her stomach, there settled this borderline acceptance of the fact she wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. percy sighed. “your tributes have outlived mine. that didn’t happen last time. or the time before that,” she pointed out, though she didn’t seem particularly attached to the notion.

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"Sorry,” he said, glancing over at her, though he couldn’t tell if she was really pissed off because he wasn’t actively getting beaten up right now. Percy had never really been one for subtlety, so to see some was strange now. “Yeah, they’ve got each other, that helps,” he said. He was surprised — pleasantly so — that Lawrence was still there. “Trying to keep my hopes under control. It is District Nine after all.”

“They’ll get memorialized in their baby books too.” She assured. Emilia intended to let the two children she still had do whatever their little hearts desired, except go to the Academy. She hoped to steer them so very clear of anything and everything having to do with the Games. So if they found a passion in art, she was sure to encourage it. That would mean scrapbooking and holding these early momentos. 

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