#incaensio

It's the same dream.

Peeta is running through the woods stumbling over branches. Peeta! It's his name, shrieked in Katniss' voice, just like he remembers it after the announcement during the 74th games. He's coming... he'll get to her. Peeta!

He falls to the ground after tripping on a branch and there's an uncharacteristic amount of blood for such a small thing. He tries to get up - Peeta! - but he cries out in pain, falling to the side as he stands. Horrifyingly, he looks down and... his leg is gone. There is nothing to it but a bloody stump, the rest of it blasted away somewhere.

No - not blasted... Peeta! He hears his name again, but it's no longer in her voice. It's a growl and he turns to the side to see a mutt. The dog-like one from his Games, but transformed. It's not just the eyes that belong to Cato, but the voice too. The mutt is speaking to him, calling his name in his old ally's voice. Peeta! It's Cato. Peeta! Isla. Then Glimmer and Clove.

Finally, the eyes shift and he sees Chandler's gaze staring back. His soft voice speaking out Peeta's name, over and over again. Peeta, Peeta, Peeta.

Peeta gasps awake.

He blinks rapidly, trying to get his bearings. He's in the Tribute Center, up in his room, and he can feel Katniss next to him. Like always after his nightmares, he can't move. He can't speak or scream out for help. And he knows he'll see the last thing he did before waking, can sense it in the room with them.

As soon as he thinks it, it's there. The Chandler-mutt. Right on the bed with them, sitting at the edge. He can almost feel the weight on his good leg and his heart beats wildly. It's not real, he tells himself, but can't tear his eyes away from the beast that is ready to tear him up once more. He'd gotten Chandler killed, after all. Turned him into this.

How many deaths can someone bring before they deserve it, too?

the night has dragged on, but is far from over. any other year, the scores of four and six would be the most eventful aspect of the day. instead, focus was on the interruption that transpired at caesar's afterparty. it hung in the air like a smog, even if most partygoers seemed unconcerned to it all. after witnessing it with effie, and subsequently talking to katniss, haymitch had spent the rest of his time at the event talking with sponsors and other mentors. at the end of the day, the quell still begins tomorrow. it's ever apparent when the team is in the town car with chandler and hazelle. had they had more time, haymitch would have gruffed about leaving it for the next day when their tributes were training. that luxury is one that none of them can afford.

soon they're up on the roof top. he can only assume the tributes are sleeping. ( he hopes they are, but he couldn't the night before the second quell. ) pink fabric is suffocating and itchy, but there was no time to change out of this capitolite costume. the summer, night air is warm. lights of the city shine bright below. people are still out and about, excited for what's to come at noon tomorrow. the older victor turns to look at the rest of the team, arms crossed. ( very friendly look, haymitch ! ) " it's good that we decided to stick around after ... everything. " he first acknowledges. some of the mentors did return to the tribute center soon after. seeder retired soon after ; she waved him goodnight as she did. " do we wanna start with the elephant in the room or better news ? i think effie had something she wanted to say. " thought of what the escort had to say has since left his mind. abernathy was still shocked she'd never watched the tribute deaths !

If Finnick had learned anything during his time as a victor, it was that the Capitol spared no expense. Not for their Games. Not for their frivolous events. And, it appeared, certainly not for their weddings.

The District 4 victor had to admit that the reception hall looked nice. He knew the flowers alone would have cost a fortune, factoring in the cost of the food, the drink, the grandiose decor...Finnick's head spun as he tried to total it all. However much this Girl on Fire's wedding cost, it was certainly more than he would ever see in his lifetime.

Finnick snagged a glass of champagne from an avox passing by with a tray. He knew he was toeing a precarious line, but he desperately needed something to dampen the all the noise.

If he were being honest, he wasn't totally sure of how he had ended up here. Sure, he was a victor, and the Everdeen-Mellark wedding had been deemed the event of the year by nearly every news outlet in Panem. He supposed it made sense he managed to make the invite list in that sense, but he had never met the happy couple.

As Finnick stared down into the bubbles in his glass, he couldn't help but feel like the whole thing was wrong. It wasn't the time, though. There were more pressing things to worry about.

He swallowed down the unease, chasing it with a sip of champagne.

Time slips by. He's not exactly sure how much, but he does make it through another glass so perhaps an hour. Maybe an hour and a half.

Finnick has drifted through the crowd. Shared pleasantries, humored a few guests with a half hearted laugh. He had just begun trying to work out if now was an acceptable time to sneak out and return to his hotel when she caught his eye. Despite his burning desire to bury himself in his bed, alone, he figured taking his leave without at least congratulating the happy couple would make him a bad guests. Couldn't have that.

He moved swiftly across the floor, ready to get it over with.

"Ah, here's the blushing bride," Finnick said with a bright smile. "Congratulations, Girl on Fire. Truly. I'm happy for you both." He briefly raised his glass as if to make a toast. "I'm honored to have made the guest list."

RS; What nonsense are you even speaking

regardless of restrictions of materials and goods, there always seems to be more layers to be thrown onto haymitch abernathy. and no matter, he's always cold. the girl's ma says it's normal, but he doesn't believe it. but it's neither here nor there ; he dually wants to always argue nowadays while also doesn't have the energy anymore. so he floats like an aged phantom, but with none of the privacy of one. but for someone who hates being corraled and told what to do, the man from twelve sure does follow his sleeved schedule like an obedient mutt. which is why he's in the training center, and currently observing the girl.

he used to see her daddy in her often. in appearance, it's significantly more striking. but sometimes in softness, she can match. the girl's ma said she used to be more of a temperament for sweetness. it's hard for haymitch to picture. in fact, the unprompted information caused an eye roll. the mentor and mentee are a pair of shadows, and it's hard to picture her like primrose or their daddy. same as he cannot remember the living being of haymitch abernathy that existed before the second quarter quell.

arms remains crossed his chest, but ears perk up as the girl speaks to him. he all but huffs, in the gruffness that he exerts. " just ponderin' where all this was when ya were trainin' for ya'r games. " it's a lie. but words are easier than talking about something deeper like her before the loss of her daddy ; it's easier than acknowledging the guilt of seeing a seam kid turn into a killing machine. ( bury that, the mockingjay being practical on the field is better for the rebellion after all ! ) " that's all mason thoug' right ? i can recognize that technique. ya got a longs'ways to go thoug'. "

Peeta doesn't jerk in pain anymore as his prep team rips any unwanted hair (less than Katniss', though, he gets to keep the hair on his arms and legs) or when they pull his scalp as they style him. It's fairly easy work for him and he can appreciate that it's harder for them. What makes it even better is the way Katniss has started to come to his room for her own prep. How their teams buzz around one another, side-stepping and calling out to each other. They gossip together and Peeta tucks away the information for later.

Alanoria says she'll be getting married to the foul man, Icabony. The names are confusing, like letters pushed together, but Alanoria is rich, a sponsor, and if she'll acquiring a partnership with the man, it means more money for the possibility of future Games. Peeta can use that.

He smiles from his seat when he's turned again, once more facing Katniss, and wiggles his brows at her. "Don't move them!" Opal scolds him, slapping his hand, and Peeta laughs. "I just got them set."

"Who knew you needed to wait for eyebrows to set," he jokes with Katniss as his prep team tsks at him.

ten minutes is all it seems to take for the crowd of wealthy people to suddenly forget all that had happened. he had known of something transpiring this evening, but not the what. seeing the brutuality sobered him up quickly. with effie beside him during and beside herself, once her demeanor became less striken, he excused himself. they almost never show the full thing of rue, and his mind is only on the girl on fire.

she looks uneasy when haymitch does find her. she's not wrapped in the arms of her husband. ( jesus, where the hell is peeta ? ) maybe he should console her, but he doesn't soften. there's been moments outside of the seventy-forth games where abernathy feels like he's her mentor again. this is one of those times. " get a grip. it looks bad if you're not out there with a smile. and the last thing you need right now is to be questionable to snow, understood ? "

the soundstage of caesar's show was vast. he had remembered a time when another flickerman stole the show, but the men were carbon copies. with the glory and excitement settled into the air, it's easy enough to step away. plutarch had acknowledged the scores to the rebellions earlier in the day. twitch had recieved a six, and the mentor was impressed. discord left something to be desired it seemed. their escort will be near to help them process their scores.

when it becomes apparent that another is in the abandoned tech room, his phonecall to head gamemaker will have to wait. it's the girl on fire no less ! did she follow him ? the thought leaves as soon as it comes. the victor was bright, and would likely keep her eye on anyone else. " caesar flickman interviews hardly ever change, you'll find. the audience and backstage both get too overstimulating for my taste. " he'll hide behind the guise of introversion.

it's quieter back here. the camera room had been switched to the other wing years ago. it's dusty and dark in the room. it wasn't uncommon for mentors to find brief solace here. it's also one of the few places in the studio that wasn't bugged, fortunately for them all. it still makes him a bit weary as the locked knob starts to get aggressively wiggled. in the shadows, he raises a finger up to his lips. it's suspicious: the other person's persistence. had it been another victor, they likely would have knocked upon finding it locked.