#cataclysmicrp

Most Victors preferred to drown their sorrows in alcohol. Heather, on the other hand, would much rather enjoy the company of food. Especially the exquisite dishes the Capitol was known for.

As per usual, she walked straight past anyone who tried to talk to her, glaring at the ones who tried to walk alongside her. Meaningless conversations held no interest, especially since most of them would, presumably, be about her poor, unfortunate Tributes.

Her mood lifted considerably when she reached the tables laden with every food imaginable.

Let the real fun begin.

Starting at her favourite table, the one with pastries and desserts, she quickly filled her plate with butter croissants, chocolate cakes, strawberry and crème cakes, flaky tarts, chocolate gelato, cookies and cream ice cream-

“I’ve never seen such a little lady like yourself eat so much before.”

Heather glanced up and glared at the man who dared interrupt her food-choosing. He was a Capitolite, no doubt. The spikes protruding from his bald head were a dead giveaway.

“You know, I’ve always liked little girls who can-“

Heather woke up to Kitty meowing loudly in her ear. Groaning, she turned over, only to get a face full of fur. Seeing that her mistress was awake, Kitty climbed down the bed, and scampered off to find breakfast. Reluctantly, Heather sat up in bed, eyes squinting under the bright sunlight pouring in through her window.

Sighing, she dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs to the living room. Her stomach growled loudly despite last night’s substantial feast. Her mother smiled from where she sat reading on the couch, before pointing towards the metallic hole in the wall. She grimaced. Heather considered not getting her schedule just to spite Coin, but then she remembered that Coin was not above punishing misbehaving Victors. Grudgingly, she stuck her wrist in and waited impatiently as her schedule was inked onto her body.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she looked over her schedule. To her annoyance, it seemed that she was going to be interviewed by Caesar Flickerman tonight.

With Cepheus Dayne, no less.

She scowled, before reaching for her mom’s home-made bread. It was dark, crescent-shaped and sprinkled with seeds- just like the ones from home. The familiar savoury taste warmed her heart, lifting her mood a little. Unfortunately, she was still miffed that she had to be interviewed by Caesar again. Especially the day right after the Victor Party. She didn’t understand why Coin still wanted her to be interviewed. It wasn’t like she had anything to say. Still, disobeying Coin wasn’t exactly an option. The repercussions were not appealing, to say the least.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, she thought of the other person that would be at the interview. Cepheus Dayne… He was an alright dude, as long as he didn’t try to hit on her. Maybe having him as an interview buddy wouldn’t be too bad; he could do all the talking for her.

As she finished her bread, Kitty sauntered into the kitchen and began meowing impatiently, tapping incessantly at Heather’s feet. She smiled affectionately at her.

Kitty was a… rather weird cat. Unlike most cats, she liked going out of the house and running about the neighbourhood.

She whistled a simple two-note tune, the signal that they were going out for a walk. Kitty immediately turned and rushed out the front door. Grabbing a bottle of water, Heather chased after Kitty before the inquisitive cat could get herself into trouble.

They strolled down the main road leisurely, Kitty running forwards occasionally to inspect things along the road. A dead leaf, a fallen flower, a shiny wrapper. She pawed through them deliberately, before moving on to the next piece of trash. As they passed by a big mansion, Kitty perked up as a tall figure exited the building. Kitty hissed ferociously before pouncing after the one and only Cepheus Dayne. Heather barely managed to hold her back before she could claw his eyes out.

Happy Hunger Games.

People said she was lucky. Lucky to survive. Lucky to win. Lucky to enjoy a life of high class and prestige forever more. Lucky, lucky, lucky.

She wished she wasn’t so lucky.

It was her luck that landed her in the Games. It was her luck that landed Evan in the Games. It was her luck that she survived so long. And it was the same luck that killed Evan.

She should have just… allied with Evan, or made her mentor promise to keep Evan alive no matter what or something. No, not really possible, because she wanted to live too. She just wanted to stay alive, but not at the cost of Evan’s death. She just- she just wished they’d never been reaped.

She hated herself. For killing Evan so carelessly, even if it was an accident. For being so selfish that she only thought to keep herself alive. For… for… for living.

One distinctive feature of District 11 was the large number of cats that roamed the streets. Though they moved freely, almost all of them had owners. It was not a surprising sight to see the people of 11 sharing their food, water and homes with them, despite being dirt-poor themselves. The cats more than made up for it though, by catching the vermin that would otherwise ruin their crops.

In District 11, cats were symbols of protection. Heather heard that a long time ago, people thought that a black cat crossing your path meant bad luck. She quickly dismissed that as outdated superstition. How could cats be bad luck? They ensured the survival of their crops and the safety of the children. As far as the people of 11 were concerned, they were indebted to the cats, hence it was their moral duty to care for them in return.

In fact, they took the symbolism even further.

Mothers and fathers would tuck their children into their beds at night, and as they drifted off to sleep, they would tell them heroic stories of famous cats, such as Tom the Cunning, who dedicated his entire life to chasing one mouse; Bast the Brave, who fought a giant snake to protect her children; and the most famous of them all, Crookshanks the Courageous, who caught and ate the evil mouse, Wormtail.

As their children grew older, parents would pass down the more mythical legends that surrounded the amazing creatures. In 11, cats were also believed to be the guardians of the underworld. Not only did the cats protect them from vermin and pests, they also protected them against malicious spirits, capturing them and sending them back to hell.

As did many children in Zone B, Heather owned a cat. It was her very own cat, though, of course, everyone in the family loved her. Her parents’ old tabby cat died when she was a baby, and they never got around to adopting a new one. Her sister was one of those weird kids who didn’t want a cat, and might actually have been slightly scared of them? To be fair, cats did tend to hiss at Phoebe when she was around. A few even managed to scratch her. In fact, Heather’s cat was pretty hostile towards Phoebe at first too, but over time they grew on each other and sometimes she even let Phoebe pet her.

Heather’s cat’s name was Kitty and she was the largest, cutest fluffball she had ever seen. With soft grey and white fur, and large eyes, Heather fell in love with her immediately. Unlike most children, she didn’t adopt her cat by picking one out from the streets and then begging their parents to keep it. Auntie Jennifer’s cat had given birth to little kittens, and because they couldn’t possibly raise more than one cat, she gave away the kittens as soon as they could live without their mother. And so Heather got Kitty as her 12th birthday present.

Heather actually cried the first time she held Kitty. She was so precious and innocent and vulnerable. In the midst of all the chaos, Kitty was her anchor. She symbolised a new start, a chance at a better life. During the darker times in the war, her family would sit on the floor with Kitty right in the middle, and play with her for a while to distract themselves from the horrors outside their windows.

Her mother told her that when she went to the Capitol for the Games, Kitty became extremely distraught, and lost a lot of weight because she wouldn’t eat. She would just pace around the house, meowing pathetically for her owner. One time, they couldn’t find her and spent half the night searching for her, only to find her buried deep in the covers of Heather’s bed. They let her be.

Their reunion was an incredibly emotional one. Kitty jumped into Heather’s arms the moment she saw her at the train station, and Heather immediately started crying. Then the rest of the family joined in, hugging each other tightly. Kitty meowed loudly as she licked the tears off her family’s faces, which made them laugh a little.

When they moved into their new house in Victor’s Village, Heather insisted that Kitty sleep with her at night. Sometimes, in the dead of the night, when the nightmares kept her awake, Heather would use her voice again, and sing softly into Kitty’s furry ears.

Contrary to what many people might think, her first crush was not in fact Thalia Gerril. Thalia was the first- and only- girl to be bestowed the honour of having Heather announce her “undying love” for her, but she was most certainly not the first girl Heather had ever dreamed of kissing.

Her name was Jasmine. Heather only saw her a couple times around school, when the children from another zone of District 11 were visiting, but she would never forget the first time she saw her face. Rich, dark skin the colour of a stag beetle. Large, green eyes with flecks of hazel and gold. Fluffy, black afro hair. Plump, nude lips.

She wanted to marry her.

Jasmine’s class did not exchange with Heather’s class unfortunately. The teachers, understandably, did not think it was wise to place more seven-year-olds together in an already overcrowded classroom.

However, Heather did manage to talk to her. It was very lucky on her part, because at that time, she wasn’t even trying. Heather was in the school library- just an old, unused classroom with lots of bookshelves, looking for a new book to read. Her eyes roamed the bottom shelves- the only ones she could reach, when she felt someone tap her on her shoulder. She turned and suddenly all she could see were those beautiful, green-hazel-and-gold eyes.

She couldn’t breathe.

“Hello,” said the girl, flashing her small pearly-whites.

Heather, too nervous for words, could only stutter and mumble incoherently.

Seemingly unfazed, the girl selected a book from the shelf and presented it to Heather.

“Have you read this one?”

Her words snapped her out of her stupor. She glanced down at the book.

Charlotte’s Web

Intrigued and momentarily distracted, Heather took the book and turned it over to read the back of it.

“It’s a little hard, but it’s very good.”

Heather looked up and remembered that she wasn’t alone. She blushed and looked down at her feet.

“Uh- thank you,” she mumbled shyly.

The girl smiled at her when she looked up again.

“You’re welcome.”

Unsure of what to do, Heather just nodded. The girl, seemingly satisfied, turned and walked towards the library door.

No! Wait!

“Wait!” cried Heather. She didn’t want to let her go just yet.

The girl turned back around. “Yes?”

Heather did not think this through.

“Uh- well-“she racked her brain for something to say, “I don’t know your name?”

Why did she say it like a question?

The girl’s face broke into a smile again. “Oh, it’s Jasmine, but you can call me Jazzy.”

With that, she turned and left the library, her footsteps echoing against the concrete floor.

Heather didn’t manage to gather her wits in time to run after her, to ask her to wait, to be friends, to be best friends, maybe more than best friends? By the time Heather left the library, Jasmine was nowhere to be seen, and that was the last time she ever saw her.

Absolutely distraught, Heather went about the rest of the day moping, and clinging onto the small, dying hope that she might see Jasmine again. Later that day, Phoebe told her that the visiting children had gone back home that day.

It took months for Heather to get over Jasmine. She obsessed over the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Jasmine constantly appeared in her dreams, images of her green-hazel-gold eyes and soft afro hair delighting her behind her closed eyes. Heather came to hate waking up, because waking up meant that she couldn’t see Jasmine anymore. Her dreams seemed to taunt her now, comforting her with a mere apparition of Jasmine in her sleep, while she would probably never get to see her in real life again.

Maybe it wasn’t such a surprise after all, that Heather took to confessing to Thalia in front of the whole school, a mere week after realizing her crush for the older girl. She couldn’t let her slip through her fingers so easily like Jasmine did.