#lepidusoccisor

"you know what-" as usual, without invitation, haymitch had begun a conversation with whoever happened to be seated next to him at the bar. noting cashmere's presence making his curiosity overrun any social graces he managed to maintain. he'd watched the reaping as he did every year, on his couch with a scotch in his hand. this time though, he actually had memory of it. with people he very much cared about in the pool once again, as well as his mentor duties, his interest in the other tributes and victors only grew stronger. he wonders if gloss is coping with the training, if cashmere was as affected by the situation as he was. "i gotta ask- did you want to volunteer? or think about it?" if haymitch had an opportunity to pick cash's brain without gloss around, he certainly wouldn't pass it up.