#wickedaxe

eyes   stare   into   the   flickering   candles   ,   watching   the   flames   DANCE   .   such   a   simple   sight   ,   but   it   always   left   her   in   awe   .   "   well   ,   i'd   be   afraid   of   you   ,   if   i   were   them   .   no   chance   to   be   displeased   .   "   she   offered   up   .   definitely   a   compliment   .   an   implication   of   UNDERRATING   ,   rather   than   admitting   to   some   all   mighty   power   of   the   government   .   she   knew   as   well   as   most   that   the   punishments   could   be   severe   and   cruel   .   then   again   ,   she   lived   on   the   side   of   the   punished   ,   rather   than   the   side   given   rules   to   ABIDE   BY   .   a   pause   ,   eyes   squinting   for   only   a   moment   .   "   what   is   this   ,   with   the   candles   ?   i   like   it   .   "

HE SHIFTS UNCOMFORTABLY. eyes glued to the ground. he never knows how to interact with the tributes. he feels a wave of guilt wash over him and david wonders how far away he is from the nearest trash can. he needs to vomit so badly. he knows how they must view him. he's from the districts and yet every year when they come to him with ideas for the next game, he helps. at first, when he was just a boy, it was thrilling. the thinly veiled promises that he wouldn't be reaped on top of the ability to expand his mind was too tempting to turn down. and now he was far too deep in the hole. it blocked out any sense of son. he hated who he became. ❝ how long do these events last? i'm starting to feel ill... ❞

❛   it’s like déjà vu   . . .   ❜      there is ice within her words.      eyes ever watching give the district seven tribute a glance over at the overzealous dress her stylist undoubtedly foresaw as mesmerizing for the interviews.      by capitol standards , it was.      cora’s own taste deviated from the norm of the citizens of the city   —   her own white , simple gown proof of such.      but she was not the one walking into the arena once more.      no.      no that honor rested upon twenty four victors who thought they were safe.      (   and what a show it will be.   )      catching sight of brutus and enobaria not far off , still holding that unsure look to their eyes whenever she was around , cora turned her gaze back to the woman from seven before her.      ❛   i would say the cards are stacked in your favor if you ask me.      so many older victors here   . . .   should be a easy sweep for you with you axe.   ❜

"but when will it be enough, johanna?" she frowns at the other woman and the look of rage that has overtaken her face. but annie recognizes that her sneer morphs from anger, hurt—all justified—but annie is so tired. tired of hurting, tired of watching, tired of waiting. she looks down into her lap, feeling miserable. "if finnick were here—" she starts then stops. she definitely doesn't need another jab at how he's gone. so instead she presses her lips into a thin line and starts again. she has to count to five before she speaks. "and after that? will you finally be satisfied? will justice be served? how many hunger games with the capitol children will make a fair trade for everything we've been through? she recognizes that she's probably pushing her too far, but now she is angry too. "why stop at one then, johanna? in your heart, don't you want more?"

I  hear  her  heavy  feet  stomp  across  her  pouch,  first.  But,  before  she  can  get  throw  the  front  door  open,  I’m  there  first  and  start  with  a  decoy,  “haymight  said  you  needed  me?”

“   are   you   sure   that   i   won’t   look   stupid   ?   ”   she’s   sure   that   she’s   done   much   SCARIER   things   .   cliff   jumping   ,   petty   theft   ,   surviving   the   damn   hunger   games   .   the   list   goes   on   ,   but   somehow   pales   in   comparison   to   the   SHEARS   in  @wickedaxe  ‘s   hand   above   her   seat   in   the   center   of   the   kitchen   .   “   i   don’t   know   if   i’m   COOL   ENOUGH   to   pull   this   off   .   ”

a glass of wine is extended toward the other woman, the corners of her lips twitching the slightest bit ( fighting back the beginnings of an amused smile ) as she raises her own glass, taking a long drink before she speaks, " you do know it is going to be rather difficult to form an alliance with her, if you insist on antagonizing her. she is hardly the trusting sort, " she could not imagine how any of them could be, much less now, when it came to the third quarter quell — an arena full of people who had experience, a good chunk of them who were fighting all the harder to return home, after even that false sense of security was ripped from their grasp. and others... who were fighting for something bigger, something more. with katniss everdeen at the forefront of it, whether the girl knew it or not. she had not gotten to speak to her in person, but from what had she heard, she seemed to be rather similar to johanna herself.