Untitled

dazzle trinket ~ district 12 escort ~ daughter of effie trinket

“i’d rather jump on a podium mine than be … like that.” yves scoffed, eyes glued to the floor. he didn’t want to be desensitized to the violence that he’d been surrounded by. unfortunately, people like him didn’t have much of a choice. he was more like them than he thought he was. “be careful about what you say about them. the capitol, i mean. i could’ve been one of snow’s big wigs. they’d chop your tongue out for that, and that’s if you’re lucky.”

“yeah, i don’t think that the capitol is going to turn me into an avox since i’m a tribute and the sister of last years victor, well one of them. i know that they already have my death figured out.” she said. “though you would be the perfect spy since you would be the completely opposite person of someone who i could imagine as a spy.”

“I was never one for the small talk either,” Her tone dry, lips not even advancing into a twitch, gaze reflective in the tired manner it had been so many years ago. It had faded as the years went by, dimming as elements became lost in the repeated swirl of similar events, it largely being the arena itself that remained crystal clear in memory, but it was undeniable that she had been lacking in the social areas. Effie, Haymitch, so many had tried to call her up on that manner, but half the time the most she could muster was dry comments others took with wit, and a forced smile across her face. “You chose to not be a pawn in their games, against all the odds, against all the time us tributes have believed we have no choice but to play…This situation is unfair, a crooked move, but that’s not on your hands for them to blame. It’s on those,” Head nudging as if to suggest the blatant answer they all knew of the Capitol, part of her could understand why people were not so kind- Katniss herself was never the first to love quickly, though she could be quick to trust. Still, she herself made the same choice in her time, but things seemed quicker tamed then. 

“it’s not exactly small talk, it’s more talking in general.” she said to katniss. “most of my life i just socialized with my family or the animals on our farm, so i’m not really a people person.” victoria was luckier than most in district ten, her family owned a very well ran farmed that employed many people around the district. but for it to be so successful meant that victoria didn’t really get to hang out with kids her age, from a young age she was working on the farm while other kids were playing with one another. but maybe that’s why she was able to kill during the games, she didn’t exactly made attachments to anyone but quentin. “we didn’t expect them to stop the games, we totally thought they would just let us die.” she stated. “and if i knew this, i would’ve let quentin kill me.”

She had been raised with a coldness, and there were times since her victory that she had been forced to let coldness win out. Her heart bled, truly, for each of her tributes she had to witness die, but she had to keep smiling, keep supporting. Had to measure her own means against the rest of her district, falling back on the fact they were rich enough to not make her cry with any pity. She couldn’t think like that, at least not in public, and the truth was, at this point, she was too dependent on what she gained from them to hate all their richness. It gave her access. “Things are shit. Sure, some starve, other districts at least. But that’s the way it is, there’s nothing we can do to stop it,” She hadn’t been in the victory circuit for so long as the other, yet her tone was embittered, having given up the fight a while ago, when the addiction had kicked in too far. “Besides, we get a shot at some of their richness, and I kinda like that on my side”. She could see the view of the other, feel it even. Just not express it, without being too hypocritical for words. And in the end, what was it they said? Kill or be killed. 

jasmine’s home life was never the easiest, she was the child of an affair and everyone in her family knew that and she only lived with them because her mother died. and she volunteered for her sister because she loved her and hoped that maybe it would lead to her family caring more about her. and while it did, at the same time it put a distance between them, she had killed people and was now haunted by that and they could all see that in her. “maybe if the capitol were actual humans that realized the rest of us are humans not just play things killing each other for their amusement.” she said. “i’d rather live poor forever than have richness and lose myself in the process.”

there was always so much pressure when it came to being president & even before he had gained the title , the pressure was there as he was being groomed for the position . he was sometimes a stress eater & peeta was a stress baker ; the unlikely friendship between the two had formed over a plate of chocolate chip muffins a few years ago . maverick hadn’t seen or talked to peeta since the 99th games . there was a part of maverick’s stomach that pulled tight as he saw the district twelve mentor now . he didn’t want the games to disrupt their friendship .” i think today definitely calls for both . ” the raven haired male reached out , taking a slice of bread & a muffin . “ do you have ten paintings stashed in your room that you’ve started & finished today to go along with these treats ? ”

peeta knew that he should chew maverick out or do something to get him to remove his kids from the games. but peeta didn’t know where his mindset was right now, and he didn’t want to put his kids or katniss into a dangerous situation because he over speaks. “just to let you know the muffins in the back are the ones you like the most, i kept them in the back just in case i didn’t see you till later so that there were still some left.” peeta was always a person who wasn’t rude to people even when they were to him. “more like fifteen, haven’t been able to sleep much.” he admitted honestly.

She never at first thought that Peeta, the boy with the bread, would grow to be the rock he was for her now. Here they were, though, in circumstances once unimaginable, that she never could’ve even dreamed about as she slumped lost in the rain, half-burnt loaves of bread a saviour thrust at her. For the most part, she was grateful, happy, she’d grown into the star-crossed lover role as more than act, but as a reality she felt ardently. She was never the sort to want to spin around in a pretty dress, a giddy girl in love- her love was simpler and private- but she had found herself loving all the same. The other part of her, however, that part was angry. Their love had sprung themselves into a situation of vile hate, stuck watching and training their two children for a fight to the death. Where, traditionally, and unlikely to be flexed for a third year, only one would survive. Moments caught alone amidst the crowds of their days now, she stole a glance upwards to him, hues reminiscent of a girl on fire, fractured, unsure what to say, until she chose to blurt out. “So many years we’ve spent on this floor- resigned to it all- and now it’s come to this. Who would’ve thought,”. 

@stcllarvm​

this whole situation was hard on peeta, he was never the type of guy who was meant to be a mentor. he was too kind and caring to be one, to have to watch over the years as kids he cared for fought to the death and died, then return back to district twelve and see the families in pain and suffering from the lost of the kids. he always felt bad and would bring baked goods to their homes for a few weeks trying to help them through it. and peeta wanted kids his whole life, he came from two parents who weren’t the most loving to each other or their kids. so he always wanted to have a happy family filled with love, and he hoped them being katniss and peeta would make it so the capitol never reaped his kids because their family was beloved by everyone in the capitol. and maybe if there was never another star-crossed lovers that would’ve happened, but now, his prides and joys were going to have to fight other kids and in the best case scenario only one would survive. “the capitol knows how to be cruel...”

emmaline was slightly hesitant to accept the kindness of a stranger. back home it was common. she spent many spring days distributing free bouquets of wildflowers and pine leaves. but there, in that strange and foreign place, it was hard to believe that people would be good for the sake of it. “bread, please.” she requested, pausing slightly to glance at his creations. “actually…can i have both? those look just like the muffins mr dayholt from down the street back home used to make before they -,” she paused, stopping her rambles before she divulged a terrible story that started and ended with the cruelty of peacekeepers. she was in the capitol now and she would be careful of what she said. “before he went into sudden retirement.”  

peeta always did his best to tributes and mentors around the tribute center, he could understand the pain and fear that came from the games. peeta’s kind and caring nature made the games hard on him, he wished that he could volunteer for all of them and save them. they all have a bright future that they wouldn’t be able to live because of what the capitol did to them. “of course you can have a muffin and bread.” he said with a smile. “i’m peeta mellark, if you need anything or just more baked goods, just let me know.”

          𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌     𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔     ,     𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆     𝒎𝒐𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒏     𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆     ,     appraise     the     girl     with     a     look     of     disdain     .     for     all     margot     cared     ,     the     dual     winners     of     any     game     ,     seventy     fourth     &     ninety     ninth     ,     were     sad     excuses     of     victors     .     ❝                  hmm     ,     ❞           she     paused     ,     as     if     thinking     deeply     ,     could     the     girl     help     her     ?          ❝     no     ,     certainly     not     .     just     what     pitiful     excuses     the     districts     offered     this     year     .     ❞

victoria rolled her eyes at margot, she didn’t care for many of the victors since none of them had really ever been kind to most people. “what did you expect? super soldiers trained in all forms of fighting?” she sarcastically asked. “guess not all victors have to be intelligent to win.”

It was hard to not realise the face which had completed an action so strikingly similar to her own all those years ago. Two victors once was an impossibility; two victors twice was a fracturing and inciting event. Watching the younger girl speak to her, worn eyes creased from too many years witnessing the repeated horrors of the games found a softness hint in, sigh weaving out from her lips. “I believe you can, actually, I’ve been intending to speak to you at a point,” Stiff at first in her tone initially, never the sort to approach people or greatly enjoy being approached, years of cameras in her direction adding to her closed-off nature, it became a little kinder as she continued. “Though I imagine that’s something many say to our most recent victor,”. 

while victor wasn’t born till a few years after katniss and peeta’s win, but the victory was shown as a lead up to the coming games almost every year. she remembered some kids said that they would love to have someone willing to die with them instead of winning the competition. but to victoria she could see the fakeness in that, that it was more a need to survive than anything else. and her and quentin did it not because they were in love but because neither of them could kill the other than return back to their district after that. “i probably hear that about ten times a day. most not the kindest because this whole situation is because of me.”

quentin hated the predicament they were in , hated knowing that he was responsible for it . however , he tried to keep his emotions at a distance . acting blissfully unaware would ensure that maverick wouldn’t act out against them again . quentin would remain appearing as though he were staying in his lane . “ it looks more like i should be asking you that . ” he gestured to the dark circles under her eyes . “ you look worse than you did at the end of the games . ”

“how am i suppose to look? like this is the best day of my life? my sister is in the game and same with yours, and the cards are stacked against them because of what we did.” she snapped at him. victoria then took a deep breath and sighed. “i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to snap.. it’s just.. been rough.” she apologized to him, something very rare for victoria since she rarely apologized to people. but it wasn’t quentin’s fault for her anger, it was the capitol’s.

Hearing another speak was enough to - momentarily - dismiss her from the thoughts dwelling within the ruins of her own mind. She never found a thrill in time left alone there, in the trapped darkness that was her own self, preferring to be occupied on surface-level to free her up from the harshness of thoughts which naturally associated with memory. If only it was so easy to forget each stabbing wound that choked up her inner narrative, taunting Lucrezia with the memories of those years back. Funny, how a short few days could stick with such a permanence, always playing in the back of her mind if she didn’t find some escape. It took a few seconds for fully conscious realisation to hit, typically a little slow as she swam in the morphling, but fingers gripping for safety on her glass, she tilted her head. Thankful to realise it was just another mentor like her. They were safe, well enough, to discuss bad thoughts like the one she just outwardly expressed with. “I’ve never minded the rest of the Capitol. But I hate returning to this place…” She spoke to follow up, glad to hear the other understood the first comment. The training centre was nothing but a foul reminder, and she could trace the memories of living there years back. “Where we all waited for our doom, only to be the only one who came back”. 

jasmine hated the games, many people saw her luckily since she lived and was well off afterwards. and while her family finally had the money they needed, jasmine, the real jasmine, died in the game. what was left of her was the broken girl whose childhood was stolen from her by the capitol. while she didn’t do drugs or drink to get the pain away, her smile was fake and anyone who was a victor could tell, people could see the pain in her eyes. no one ever won the hunger games, the winners were those who didn’t survive since they didn’t have to forever live with the pain of killing other innocent kids for some sick person’s enjoyment. “i don’t like this place or the capitol. the capitol steals things from the districts, allow themselves to be rich while people are starving to death..”

𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏     𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓     -     𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈     𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒆     .

𝒔𝒉𝒆     𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘     𝒕𝒉𝒆     𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔     𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆    well     away     ,     she     couldn’t     control     that     .     they     were     coming     &     she     was     a     tribute     .     what     she     could     control     was     how     long     she     could     last     ,     she     had     to     get     her     &     ambrose     to     the     final     two     ,     she     had     to     .     she     had     to     beat     the     careers     ,     they’d     trained     their     entire     lives     ,     mostly     .     it     was     the     only     way     to     guarantee     that     he     was     going     home     with     their     parents     .     the     only     way     .     her     body     screamed     with     dehydration     &     exertion     ,     she’d     been     punching     the     same     bag     for     close     to     three     hours     now     &     she     was     running     out     of     momentum     ,     but     she     couldn’t     risk     being     seen     like     that     ,     so     she     kept     going     .     she     had     to     .     there     was     no     choice     .     the     pounding     of     almost     raw     fists     on     the     leather     bag     was     the     only     thing     that     could     be     heard     until     the     door     creaked     open     ,     halting     her     next     move     as     she     turned     to     the     intruder     .

while ever game was hard for peeta, having to train tributes and fight for sponsors for them, for them only to die never was easy on the kind hearted man. but this year was even harder, not just because eight tributes were selected from each district but because two of those tributes chosen were his own kids. peeta was always a dotting husband and father, he did everything his family wanted and made sure that none of them were sad. and now his two kids were in a competition where if he was luckily one would survive and peeta wasn’t prepared for that. but peeta didn’t let anyone know about his worries since he needed to be a rock for his family, a rock that he has always been. he entered the training center and noticed his daughter there training. “you know a break never hurt anyone, you have almost a year, it wouldn’t be good to hurt yourself before the games.”

there wasn’t a lot that yves liked about the capital. he hated the people, he hated the culture, and he hated the food. yet, he loved the view. day or night, there were streets chock full of citizens like snowflakes; no two looking the same. he observed them like a patron at a zoo from any window at the tower that allowed for it. from this window they looked like ants. multicolored and glowing like the stars so far above them. typically, he enjoyed this alone, but the footsteps behind him proved that tonight wouldn’t be typical. yves chuckled to himself, his focus still not entirely pulled by the sight below him. “may the odds be ever in your favor.” he mocked, putting his wine glass to his lips. “do they ever sleep out there?”

dana had been exploring the tower, she hasn’t been able to rest or sleep well since the reaping. she wasn’t surprised that she was reaped because of the fact that her brother was one of the star-crossed lovers that led to rebelling in the districts. she would’ve been surprised if she wasn’t reaped. “well i’d take the reason they aren’t sleeping over mine any day.” the tribute said to yves honestly. “they have no care in the world, excited for the new season of their favorite sport, watching innocent people kill each other till only one survives.”

One was afforded certain privileges as a mentor, seeing as their true title, outside of the weeks ( now, annoyingly, months ) of the games was that of victor. For starters, they were not tributes, confined to their floor for a good deal of the time, and no one really cared about their actions half the time. Mentors could be plastered or high or however they chose to find themselves in, overly zealous, or direly uncaring, no one seemed to care, even if it affected the tributes. A good deal of the time, she’d still be expected to keep a pristine image in public - it hadn’t even been five years since her game, she was in the parade of youthful and symbolic victors still, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t stop indulging in her vices of survival. Everything seemed to leave her feeling at breaking point inside, and the likes of morphine, much as they aided to destruction, managed to help her also. Glass of some brightly-coloured vibrant alcohol closed in her hand, the hazing whirl of the Capitol signature in manner, she threw it back, looking out the window from whatever level of the training centre she’d found herself on. “Beautiful fucking slaughter-prep-house,” She muttered low, just audible enough for anyone near her to hear. She was loyal to the Capitol, especially when needed, but it didn’t stop the odd comment slipping out. After all, the games had scarred her. After all, the very thing that caused her loyalty was the thing that had hurt her to this point. 

becoming a victor was hard on anyone with morals, even some without it had a hard time adjusting after what they had to do in the games to survive and jasmine was no different. she was only thirteen in her games and was a part of one of the last games where kids under eighteen were reaped and while she tried her best to always stay happy and positive on the outside, on the inside she was haunted by the events of the games. it had been almost a decade and she still woke up at night in a cold sweat to the nightmare screams of some of the people in the games. it even took a toil on her relationship with her family, they knew that jasmine didn’t return the same, that she wasn’t the same girl that she was before the reaping. but at the same time they were forever grateful for her, volunteering for her twelve year old half-sister and making sure nothing bad happened to her. and it was her volunteering that helped her win because people saw it so noble for a thirteen year old to volunteer to keep her little sister safe. she was taken out of her thoughts by the woman’s comment and chuckled softly. “you aren’t wrong about that.”