Just Breathe

No thanks, she’d pass.

“Whatever it is, I pass.” She told the person standing over her. Everyone was dressed for a party and while dressed, Savanna continued to lay on the floor watching people pass with their disapproving stares. “I am not really in an ass-kissing mood. Unless you tell me you’re up for making the party a little more interesting and then I might be interested.”

Ah, thought Ellery. Administration. So he was the one who signed her sentence… not the one who tied her noose. He shrugged. Same thing.

Ellery was angry, but not at Savanna– in truth, he was a bit confused by her dramatic reaction. He hadn’t imagined a girl from 12 enthusiastically licking the Peacekeepers’ boots. Mostly, he was offended by her assumption that he would “take the only job he could get.” 

“Even if I were starving, I couldn’t imagine becoming a Peacekeeper.” Ellery squinted at the girl. “There’s this thing called morality– you know, principles and such? It’s why I’ve decided not to kill, even as a tribute. I would sooner die than bend over for Coin.” He felt his temperature rise, but continued nonetheless. “I don’t claim to know your father, and I don’t really care. I’m sure he was nice to you and all. But he’s a cog in a corrupt machine– an evil machine.” He smiled. “Anyway, lovely meeting you.”

It wasn’t until Ellery left the train car that he realized his true hatred for the girl. He could tolerate Capitol citizens… they supported their government without knowing any better. Ignorance is bliss, they say. Savanna, though? There was no excuse for a district person to take her stance. She’s lucky I’m a pacifist, thought Ellery. If not, I would have a dagger through her heart.

“Look at you, buying into the hypocrisy hook, line and sinker.” Savanna pointed out. The Capitol and Coin judged people with blanket assumptions and blindly regardless of their actual character. This guy didn’t know her father anymore than she knew his and she wasn’t there spouting accusations. Sure there were bad Peacekeepers, but they weren’t all horrible. Most infractions, including her trips to the forest, were still overlooked in District Twelve.

She chewed her lip a moment. “There’s the problem, isn’t it. You’re only think about yourself,” Savanna spit back at him. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to talk sense into the guy, so why even try? “Nothing will ever change if you don’t put good people in a position to change things.” Everyone had a lot to say, but she didn’t see anyone else volunteering to go in and change things. A lot of people were happy to sit on the sidelines and complain about how things were done. There was so much talk about discord, but no one was taking arms up against Coin or the corrupt machine as Ellery had called it.

The blend of lilac and navy in her colours suggested that she was, in fact, in pain, but Lyra managed to hold back the comment sitting on her tongue. There was probably a reason she was lying, and there had already been enough conversational mistakes Lyra had stumbled into.

“It’s nice to meet you too, what district are you from?” Lyra considered the situation, “Would you like some help standing up? This is a very unexpected turn of events.”

She placed the last shard gently on a surface, watching it for a second to make sure it wasn’t about to fly off again.

“I’m sure someone in charge is very frustrated about what’s happened tonight,” her eyes automatically drifted upwards, as if they would reveal some higher power, but she forced them back down to the girl on the floor.

“District Twelve,” Savanna told the girl easily. It was a common question lately and she knew a lot of people in the Capitol would judge them all for it. “And yes,” she confessed figuring maybe she would need the help up and it was nice of Lyra to offer.

TASK 001 - THE REAPING

It had started out as a dare and accepting a dare was a lot like life, once you took the plunge you couldn’t go back. Besides, the sting of the needle hadn’t been as bad as her friends had joked it would be. It kind of felt like the time she had been stung (rather unpleasantly) by a pair of angry wasps in the forest.

“What do you think?” Savanna asked as she pulled her hair over her shoulder showing off her brand new tattoo that now rested on her shoulder blade. The chuckles and gasps had been enough to confirm Savanna’s own thoughts. Here mother would have a kitten if she could see it, but that would require her being around.

“What kind of plants did you grow?” Fort grinned, remembering the healer’s garden in District One. District One had access to a lot of medicines if you could afford them - a lot more than the other districts anyway - but they took time to arrive from the Capitol and so healers were just as necessary as everywhere else in Panem. “There was a healer down in the valley back home who had the biggest garden - well, his house backed onto a field but everyone knew it was his – and he used to let kids who had a cold or pox pick their own herbs. ‘The darkest leaves are the best’, he used to tell us.” Fort surprised himself at remembering that, and even more at talking about home with this stranger – he supposed he really had drunk a lot.

He giggled at the mention of fortune-telling, but stopped as it occurred to him that she wasn’t joking, trying to turn his laugh into a polite, if inebriated, smile. “You do fortune-telling?”

“All kinds of things,” Savanna told him with a grin as she recalled the wild plants growing messily in her garden. “There is strawberries, an apple tree, pumpkins, tomatoes, peppers.... Anything I can get my hands on I try to grow.” Her father had brought her a bunch of seeds from District Two, but they hadn’t liked the climate of District Twelve. “Oh? What kinda of leaves? But I do know who to ask if I have a cold or pox.”

She looked at Fort a moment. “Okay, enough about my hobbies, what about yours?” Savanna asked.

“It’s only me.” Zephyr muttered, his eyes narrowed. 

This shouldn’t have been happening - whatever this was. Zephyr didn’t like chaos, and from the sounds of what was happening outside, there was bound to be chaos.

He walked towards Savanna slowly, his head turning as the direction the bullets were hitting the train shifted. He wasn’t built for loud noises. When he reached Savanna, he crouched, peering at the girl to get a better idea of who she was.

After a few moments of raking his memory, he realised he hadn’t met this girl, and came out with the only appropriate response he could think of.

“Who the hell are you?”

Only me? Well, that was original Savanna thought as she sat there a moment longer gathering he wits, thoughts, or whatever it was she was going to need to get through this situation. There was no telling what would come of it and she for one did not plan on being caught off guard.

“Oh, just some girl sitting on the floor because I thought this would be a bag of laughs.” She muttered as she winced through the pain in her wrist. It wasn’t Zephyr’s fault the train had stopped suddenly and he didn’t cause any of this chaos.

“My name is Lyra,” she answered calmly, pulling shards of pottery from her hair. 

When the train had come to a sudden stop she’d managed to slow her fall enough to avoid injury, but had landed on a shattered vase. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but was largely unbothered. They were moving again, this hesitation had been nothing in the grand scheme of things.

“Are you okay?” she hadn’t met this tribute yet, but the girl was sitting on the floor, so maybe she was injured, “What is your name?”

“I’d say nice to meet you...” Savanna had to laugh slightly at the absurd situation they found themselves in at the current moment. “Ah, well, it’s still nice to meet you Lyra.” She said because her fellow tribute was as innocent in all of this as the rest of them were.

“Oh, your father is a Peacekeeper?” Ellery laughed awkwardly. “I wonder if he was the one who kicked me in the ribs on Reaping Day. Or maybe he was the one who killed my mother.” 

He regretted the statement as soon as he had uttered it– it was foolish, of course. There were thousands of troops in District 2, so the odds that he had ever met Savanna’s father were slim. Even so, every Peacekeeper was a bastard in Ellery’s eyes. The terror they inflicted on the districts… the terror they inflicted on him– Panem’s military was a distillation of the country’s brutal might. Why anyone would voluntarily join such a force was beyond Ellery. He was comforted that Savanna had called the occupation “unhealthy”– he couldn’t agree more.

“Really?” Savanna asked before she could check herself. “Last I checked someone’s title wasn’t a one size fit all.” Part of her hated she could get so worked up over someone insulting the father she hadn’t seen in well over a year. The same man that thought it was a great idea to leave her with her uncle at ten years old. “If it matters to you, he’s in administration and you try to change a broken system.” Coin was no different than Snow in that aspect from what Savanna could tell.

Savanna took a breath. “Coin had a lot of use for her soldiers when the rebellion was all the rage, but threw them to the wolves once she got what she wanted.” There hadn’t been many options for her father. Even though she was young last they lived together, she still was aware of the nightmares that plagued her father from the war. “Soldiers that lost everything. District Twelve was burnt to the ground killing thousands. They lost their families, their siblings, brothers, sisters, dads, moms, and their home. They trained them as soldiers, to fight, and then denied them all other opportunities other than a military line of work or starve.” Walk away she told herself. Walk away.

Instinctively, she ducked as the rounds clipped the side of the window. Who would be shooting at the train and who were they aiming at? Even after the emergency lights came on, Savanna found herself still sitting propped up against the wall. It was silly to still be scared, there were now shutters on the windows, but who to say the people outside wouldn’t come onto the train?

“Who’s there?” She asked softly hearing footsteps in the darkened hall associated with a shadowy form approaching.

August had just exited her district’s common room, wondering where Thatcher had disappeared to, when the train suddenly and without warning slowed to a halt. The abruptness of the stop caused her to fall forward, and her head smacked against the edge of the window she was passing before she was able to catch herself. She could feel a small stream of blood immediately begin to run down the side of her face.

After a moment of steadying herself against the wall, August looked up to see another tribute further down the corridor, seemingly in a similar state of confusion. “Are you alright?” she called down the hall, putting her hand to her own head.

When the train lurched, Savanna couldn’t help but feel the floor do the same beneath her feet. It reminded her of the one time when she was little and there was an earthquake back in District Two. It had scared her the suddenness of it. Only this time she found herself thrown forward upon her outstretched hands with a loud yelp of pain and surprise.

“I am alive,” Savanna answered as she sat up wincing at the sharp pain in her wrist. Like a child, a dumb child, she couldn’t help but touch the tender wrist and bit down hard on her tongue to keep from crying from the pain. Did they even have medics on this train ride? How often did tributes get hurt?

“Take one,” he reassured her with a grin. “They aren’t poisoned, I promise.” He went to make a pinky promise with the outstretched hand, but was again foiled by the plate of pastries. He set it down between them and reached his little finger towards her, though he was suddenly struck by the thought that he didn’t know if this was a customary procedure where she came from, and went to retract it hesitantly.

He was relieved that she had answered his question, though he blushed slightly. He leapt gratefully on her response. “Your garden sounds like a great hobby! What do you do in your garden?” His words slurred together slightly. “And tell me about the other things you do, even if they aren’t hobbies.”

“Maybe later,” Savanna promised Fort with a grin. Right now, she wasn’t sure she could stomach anymore food. Then again, what if they decide tomorrow to take the food away from them? Back in District Twelve they had to work for every bit of food they got and what you couldn’t earn, it was up to the kids to find in the forest. In that one aspect, Savanna supposed she was just like her father and namesake.

It all made sense– something about the girl seemed familiar to Ellery. “Oh,” he replied, caught slightly off-guard. “That’s where I’m from. Ellery Andesine… you might’ve heard of me?” Everyone from District 2 had heard of Ellery. At least, he thought so.

“I would ask you if I’ve met your parents, but I don’t exactly commune with my neighbors on a regular basis.” This much was true– most of the Andesines’ business took place with the Capitol, even though they were located in 2. Aside from his butler and the people who attended his parties, Ellery hardly knew anyone from the district. “Who are your brothers, though? Perhaps I’ve met them.”

“In name, perhaps.” Savanna told him. The name vaguely rung a bell but it was likely something that came up in passing when her mom rambled on in the way she often did. Sometimes Savanna felt like she knew more about what went on in District Two than her family’s lives because District Two was easier to talk than her absence in their lives.

Of course, thought Ellery. She wasn’t native to 12. After the Second Rebellion, the district had seen an influx of migrants from across Panem. While the stereotypes still held that 12 was a run-down jumble of yokels, the truth was much more complex. Before Savanna, Ellery had never actually met someone from the far-flung district. He was a bit embarrassed for having jumped to conclusions so quickly– clearly, this girl was somewhat cultured.

“Where did you live before then?” asked Ellery. Most people were such caricatures of their districts that he was always intrigued by anyone who broke the mold. After all, Ellery was one such person himself– part 2, part Capitol. He had found that a mixed background tended to expand one’s perspective.

“District Two,” she told him softly. “Though it’s probably not fair to say because I hardly remember living there.” For the last ten years or so, she had been living in District Twelve with her uncle and it had been kind of like home. Savanna wasn’t sure which was home, or neither, but you had to put roots down somewhere.

“I’d like to think that nothing in set in stone.” Ceres lied, knowing that if she’d have stayed at home she would’ve had the rest of her life until she died or James died or she finally snapped and ended up in jail. “I guess that everyone could use something to tell us how it’s gonna be.” 

Ceres watched another card flip, the picture showing an older man with a lamp, lighting the way for company he would never had. A sudden thought came into Ceres’ mind. The card was about loneliness and loss rather than about balance and loss. She heard Savanna’s explanation and understood it, this was a journey that none of them would recover themselves from including the victors.

“Don’t worry.” Ceres picked up on the sudden change in the girl. “I don’t mind you picking apart my psyche or my life. There’s not much to tell in all honesty.”

“I doubt anything is ever in stone until you’re dead.” She pointed out and even then, who knew what happened when they moved onto wherever? “I wish I had a map a lot of times when it comes to navigating life.” Her life had been so complicated and unusual, but she had survived. Savanna wasn’t sure she’d survive the Hunger Games, but you never knew.

Fort didn’t know what he’d done right, but he was glad it was something, so he smiled broadly at Savanna. “Nice to meet you Savanna,” he extended a hand to shake hers, but, realising it was the hand holding the plate of pastries, decided to offer her a pastry instead. “Have you tried the apple ones? They’re my favourites.”

There was a beat of silence as Fort figured out what to say. He had never been much of a conversationalist. “So, Savanna,” he settled on a standard question, “do you have any hobbies?” As a look of bemusement spread across her face it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he was a little more drunk than he’d thought.

She shook her head. “Not yet,” she admitted with a sheepish grin. Pastries weren’t something she had a chance to eat often and it felt wrong in a way now to indulge in them. Part of her said mine as well, because chances were her life wouldn’t last much longer than the games, but still...

As the girl droned on, Ellery was impressed but also a bit bored. She clearly knew what she was talking about, but nothing she said had been particularly revealing. Ellery was an introvert, after all– the years he had spent with only himself for company had given the boy a detailed understanding of his own mind. He already knew that he was a spoiled, impatient person. 

She finally finished, and Ellery chuckled. “You answered my question with another question– classic. That said, I’m quite impressed. I’ve never gotten such a detailed reading before, even in the Capitol. What’s your name? And what prompted a District 12 girl to pick up the tarot?”

Savanna shrugged her shoulders. “Isn’t that how life works? Every question should lead to more questions.” Or perhaps that was how it worked in her life at least. Savanna found the more she learned about something the less she really knew about it. Surely none of their lives were simply anymore.

There was an audible smack as Fort knocked his head on the doorframe on his way into the catering cart. He breathed in through his teeth and rubbed the red patch on his forehead. Smooth, Fort, real smooth. He had sobered up when they called his name, but he hadn’t spent any time sober since. The alcohol supply in his room had dried up, though, and his stomach had rumbled at him until he was forced to teeter from his bed in search of food.

Still rubbing his head he straightened up and looked around the room, blinking slowly. He was loosely aware of the presence of another tribute in the carriage, dropped his hand from his forehead and moved very carefully over to one of the long tables groaning under the weight of cakes and pastries, doing what he thought was a very good impression of a sober person. He piled a plate high with the little latticed ones made with apple and plonked himself down on one of the plush loveseats further into the carriage.

Looking up, he realized he’d sat right next to the other tribute.

“Hey!” He smiled, a small piece of apple dropping down his front which he hastily tried to recover. “You’re Fort, what’s my name?” He paused a moment. “Wait. That wasn’t right.” A look of drunken consternation crept across his face. “No, I’m Fort. What’s your name?”

Originally posted by scbrvght

Savanna raised an eyebrow as this tribute stumbled into the train carriage. She had figured most of them would have already went to bed or retired to their own spaces at this time of night. The stench of alcohol coming from him gave him away, but his movements were just as evident. The old Victor, Haymitch, in District Twelve moved much the same way about the square when he ventured out looking for his spirits to dull away the pain. It made her wonder if there was something this tribute was trying to hide from too.

“You get bonus points for not turning that into I am fortunate to meet you,” Savanna told Fort with a small laugh and a shake of her head. Most boys back home would have turned it into a cheesy pick-up line. “And because you didn’t I will tell you my name is Savanna.”