#mcmorare

she isn't taken aback by the could - be hostile comment. at least not like she would be had anyone else strike that sort of remark her way. rather cora only grin's that wicked smile that she has come to learn katrina , like many others , loathes. even hints of a chuckle seep out as she sits across from the other as flashes of this year's games playout over the plethora of screens about the room. clearly her humor reaction is not desired given the looks shot her way , but like the dust in twelve , it merely fades into nothing by the time it reaches her.

send me a fc and i’ll think of a character on the spot.

henley custer. from the weft of district 8, daughter of workers in a bedding factory, she was reaped in the 24th hunger games at the age of 15. faced with an arena where the main water source was contaminated with hallucinogens, she won after it came down to her and the boy from district 4.

"If that's your response to a trivial matter, I'm not sure I want to know how you react to something less trivial." Despite his words, he's got a kind smile on his face. He's seen trivial matters dealt with in ways significantly less acceptable than that, at times by his own teammates. "You alright?"

@mcmorare liked for a bloody Andrei:

THE WORDS DON'T REGISTER INITIALLY, as yelena is reloading the shock capsules on her wrist and double - checking the integrity of her batons. her breath is a little short, lungs straining against invisible wire wrapped around them, but that's to be expected after this ... mess. bodies lay strewn over the concrete platform, most riddled with bruises and some with gunpowder and shrapnel ( not hers, to be clear. it's bad press to kill people on purpose ― whatever, mel ). they're breathing, from what she can tell, just unconscious. which means her time is even shorter.

it's only when she goes to bend down to fetch something off a crumpled body -- the tiny micro chip this whole thing had been for, from flying to austria, to pairing with a former shield operative -- that she realizes something is. off. something in her side protests with the pain of the sun's innermost white fire, vision blanketing with spots as she can't quite stifle the hiss of pain between her teeth. still hunched over, yelena brings her hand to the spot between her ribcage and hip, and comes away with a slick layer of dark scarlet. that bastard's tricky little knife must've scored a hit before she could pull away fast enough.

when i first started writing her i would have had a different answer for you, which is: yes, she does doubt it and that does cause her to act in ways that contradict her pacifism. when romeo dies.

but i changed my mind on this recently because it's not something i want for her or her story. being a pacifist isn't easy, and there are moments when she has considered the possibility of giving it up. but at the end of the day this is truly an ethical & philosophical way of thinking that andie truly believes in and that doesn't just go away because it's hard sometimes. when she was 17 and first starting out as lovebug it was just a thing about "well i don't like hurting people." "then you don't have to. you can be a hero and not hurt anyone. do it your own way." but over the years her pacifism is something that andie has grown extremely sure of and for every time she's doubted, she's in the end still come to the conclusion that violence isn't something that helps others and that it's not ever a burden that she wants to carry.

she has seen people succeed at their goals using violent means and she's even agreed with plenty of those people. her choices are never something that she holds against those who make different ones from her, but she's never wished she wasn't a pacifist because at the end of the day the fact that she believes violence isn't necessary will always trump the fact that violence can seem like the simpler/easier option in the moment. (which she also doesn't think is true—violence is an extremely heavy burden to her and even the one and only time she ever hurt someone physically is something that she thinks about and carries with her.)

if it were any other day, or if she were in any other mood, she would've told her to go to blight. he and katrina were closer anyway, and she knew coming up to her house in the victors' village was the last resort. but johanna recognizes the look on her face, the tremble in her voice, the dejected droop of her shoulders. it was the same look demeanor she's been fighting and pushing down for years since she won the games. the morning of the reaping was always a difficult couple of hours to go through, but it was the night before that was the real test of strength ( and sanity ). if katrina was about to tell her she dreamt about getting reaped again or was afraid to, she wouldn't be surprised. "inside," she says as she holds the door open, sighing inwardly. "and leave your shoes by the mat."

WHAT DOES SHE REMEMBER ABOUT KATRINA BRÄNDLE? victor of the seventy - second games, district seven, following directly behind johanna mason ―― a rare win in - a - row for a non career district. volunteer. two or three kills, maybe. katniss is still trying to piece her together amidst their stunted conversation, barely following the direction when peeta is tossed into the mix. she tries not to stiffen too visibly, though her expression twitches with a scowl. they're all trying to pick apart the act. she supposes, if there is anyone that knows how to see read through a façade for the capitol, it is the victors themselves. well, tough luck. she's playing it until the end. ( not too far off, now. )

she tries to smooth her features into something akin to a soft smile, a sheepish puff of air expelling from her lips. it's not katrina she'll be facing in that arena, anyhow. ( so why are they all being encouraged to mingle? one last victor - bash before the blood bath? typical. )