#gamehaunt

"i don't know if i ever told you this before, but i used to give those pigs behind your bakery a small treat or two every time i could. one of your brothers caught me once. glad he didn't tell on me." delly smiles to herself, reliving the scene in her head for a moment. she was stalling — she was there to soften peeta up, to help reverse the horrors the capitol did to him; she wasn't supposed to be talking about pigs. but he'd lashed out so quickly the last time she brought up katniss and the rebellion, so she figured this might be an easier route first. "i always wondered if they had names. did they?"

She doesn't know either. She doesn't know how she's going to do this, year after year, for the rest of her life. However long that is. It's a concept she's still wrapping her head around, the fact that this is it. This is what she is now. What she does. It makes her want to crawl into a fucking hole somewhere, to go hide up in a tree like she did after that first cannon went off to start all this. It would feel so good to smash a glass or scream or do fucking something right now, not that she has the luxury.

for all the expertise they had in crafting the torture chamber they were shoved in, it was odd that capitol's holding cells weren't so... perfect. one would think keeping them completely isolated from sight and sound once the door was shut would be another way of maltreatment, psychologically instead of physically, but the cells were hardly soundproof. johanna could hear peeta's cries and screams as if they were in the same room, just standing ( slumped / laying / forced down ) on different ends of it. she had a feeling he'd say the same. it was unbearable to hear someone suffer and not be able to do anything about it. that in itself was a form of torture too, so she supposed the structure of the cells was intentional.

the wall between their cells felt like more of a proper barrier when they spoke to each other, though. johanna is pressed to it to hear him clearly, and she assumes peeta might've been in the same position on the other side. "i'll always be angrier than i'll be scared," she says with a sharp huff. "mostly i'm just tired right now, but i... i don't really have it in me to lay down and shut my eyes." what if she didn't wake up? there was still some strength in her, as well as the same need to survive that she had during her games, but a person could only take so much. the capitol had taken too much now.

Haymitch snorts, leaning back in the chair. Perhaps this been a bad idea, his patience has a tendency to wear thin very quickly lately.