Good Times, Good Vibes

“No need to call me sir,” he remembered to tell her after being referred to as such at least more than once. He didn’t need her treating him respect and wasting her time trying to warm up to him when his decision was already concrete. Perhaps her spoken off district partner was more willing to be interesting, but Hermes wouldn’t be holding his breath.

“For your sake, I hope your perspective is correct,” he offered. “In my experiences, it is not, but even I would not go as far to say I’m right one-hundred percent of the time. Merely ninety-eight.”

“Of course. I’m sorry,” Winnie apologized, wincing a little at her own lack of knowledge. Whoever he was, she knew he was important. She’d recognized most of the faces in the Capitol, just often didn’t match them to their names. “I hope so, too. Being here was kind of a two-percent thing, I work hard to stay out of the Reaping. I’ll go on the knowledge that I’m going to be that two percent again.”

Mentally, he wrote her off and hoped death would find her hastily and with pain absent, mostly because he found her incapable of suffering through anything worse while simultaneously maintaining her dignity. Physically, his eyes rolled their way into blurry spots underneath their lids.

“Perhaps.” Entertaining her stance would bring no harm to him. One of the greatest benefits of his chosen career paths was that there was no real risk for the hand dealing the cash. “Good, according to every tale, book, and movie franchise in history, does ultimately prevail over evil. A number of our recent, soft as dough victors speak for that consistency. I can only wonder if such a “guarantee” can hold up in the world we live in.”

“I don’t know if there’s a guarantee,” Winnie agreed, drumming her fingers against the side of her teacup. “But there is a chance. There’s always a chance, sir. And maybe I’m not the strongest and everyone else might have a little more, um, murder experience than I do. But there is a chance. It’s all I’ve got to work with, but maybe it could be enough. I’m certainly going to try. Because if I won doing things I don’t agree with, treating people cruelly… then I couldn’t live with myself.”

“Of course you’re not,” he sighed. Whether or not the girl was guilty of her crimes or bound to commit more he couldn’t care less about. The twinkle visible only to him was fading for her, far too quickly for his taste. “You don’t have to change who you are inherently. Only temporarily, in order to come out of this competition on top. Weaknesses must be shed and compromises with oneself must be made. The latter of the two I’m unable to assist you with. The former is quite easy. Simply, stop. Niceities and friendly gestures will get you as far as the bloodbath before you’re dead. Ruthlessness and placing your livelihood in your top priority spot will keep you alive, for the most part.”

She frowned, “I would rather die and be kind than live and be cruel,” Winnie said softly, staring at the man’s collar rather than at his face. “I can put my livelihood first, and Rowan, he… he’s going to do the same. Even though that’s hard. Everything else comes down to how much I can learn. I’m s-sorry, sir, but I think you’re wrong.” The scarlet flushed down her cheeks to her neck, and Winnie was surprised that she was this calm. “I’ve lived this long believing that sometimes, the nice one comes out on top. It is all that’s helped me survive.” She inhaled deeply, nearly forgetting how afraid of him she was. “Perhaps I can prove that to you.”

“That will have to go as well,” he advised plainly. “The harmless, defenseless act has indeed worked in the past, but it requires alterior motives and a driving force in order to be effective. Johanna Mason pulled it off merely because she was anything but harmless and defenseless. You appear to be both of these things.” Hermes sipped from his drink to pause, leaving the girl to wonder if she should be offended or not. He didn’t see her squirm on the outside, but such a comment didn’t pass through anyone’s thoughts without a second one. “Qualities not to be ashamed of in most contexts. As a tribute, however, they should be repressed.”

Winnie frowned. “That’s not an act, though. That’s just… me.” She couldn’t open up to this man about the fact that the Games had changed almost everything about her daily life a year ago, that because of the Talent Show she spent most days reminding herself how to breathe and that there was no space in her mind to even fathom creating a persona for herself. “If I get rid of that, there’s not going to be anything left,” she added, her voice soft. 

“That can’t be the only way,” she said, more to herself than to him. There had to be something else. Rowan would help her. He would think of something. He had been the only reason she got out of bed most days. That would not change. “I might have a criminal record,” her voice hitched at the word. “But I can assure you, sir, that, um… I’m not like that.”

Hermes, as any good sponsor would, decided to scope out the new crop of tributes at the earliest opportunity. He admittedly missed the thrill of actively searching for qualities that appealed to him, that he deemed worthy of getting a chance to remain living. For the tribute’s sake and to add another figurehead for the rebellion’s pawns to follow. It was still his own agenda, separate from anything the still mute Primrose Everdeen instructed him to do. He had to do something while he waited for an instruction to delve into.

“I’ll take one,” he replied, snatching a glass from the Avox’s tray before shooing them away. “It may be in your best interest to cleanse yourself of that politeness, young lady. Your competitors won’t be so friendly when you cross paths.”

Originally posted by oscaricaas

Winnie offered the Avox a little wave as they left, wondering why people in the Capitol dismissed them so quickly. She had always been taught to treat others with respect, regardless of their level of power. Wyatt had even told her before she left that she needed to stay true to herself, to who they all knew Winnie was. And Winnie was the kind of girl to thank a butterfly for letting her see its beauty. 

“I’m really just nervous, to be quite honest,” Winnie replied softly, looking up at the man. He was familiar, a little, but most of the Capitol people on television started to all look the same. “I don’t know if I can, um, do that. Not easily, at least. I don’t think I’m like a lot of these people, and perhaps everyone needs a little kindness.” She paused, thinking it over. What would Rowan do? What would he suggest? “Maybe I can turn it into something that, um, works in my favour. Stranger things have happened.”

Also, it was winter. And it was freezing. The knit sweater over her dress that kept her warm in Ten did not work here in the Capitol where they actually had snow. 

The best she could do was get a cup of tea and just hang around the outer walls of the lobby, until Rowan was finished being measured for his costume and could be back at her side. It felt awkward, being alone here. She never felt fully complete without him. An Avox approached with a tray of drinks and she shook her head. “Oh, no thanks,” Winnie said softly. “I’ve got something, already.” Turning to the person nearby, she waved them forward, hoping she wasn’t standing in their way. “Oh, sorry about that. You go ahead.”

“I’ll take one,” he replied, snatching a glass from the Avox’s tray before shooing them away. “It may be in your best interest to cleanse yourself of that politeness, young lady. Your competitors won’t be so friendly when you cross paths.”

“Hunter Twill doesn’t want to talk? I’ve seen many things, but nothing as surprising as this. And I saw Maxine Bauer slice a blondie’s throat clean through.” Hermes hadn’t, and would never, congratulate his friend on his second victory. He opted instead to pretend to trauma accompanying the previous Games never happened. After all, it could have ended in a manner so much worse.

‘‘Hunter Twill doesn’t want close to anything. I’ve never been picky,’‘ Hunter smiled with feigned innocence, grin a bit childish and faultless. ‘‘Do you want a picture?’‘ he inquired neutrally, as if talking to a fan that rushed by his side to greet their hero. Of course, that was nothing but a harmless joke, shreds of Hunter’s ego that was quieting down only for the moment. It was a weird time in his life, but he understood some of it, finally.

Hermes flew free as a bird throughout the Victory Ball floor. Having Hunter back amongst the party was a swell enough pleasure, though rivaled by the jubilation he carried for adding another bragging right to his belt. Sponsors were a ridiculous, idiotic breed of Capitolite. They would sing his praises all because he hadn’t been foolish enough to bet on anyone but Hunter. To keep the streak going was a challenge he’d yet to accomplish, but now that the opportunity presented itself again, it would be one of his many ambitious goals.

“Ah yes,” he chimed. “I fondly remember the day President Battenberg decreed this particular balcony to belong to nobody else but bitter trainer woman. A wonderous day in our history.”

“Mmm, me too.” Lana hummed, leaning back in her chair. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Gotta say, I was surprised, but it was worth all the hard work I put in if it means you’ll leave me alone.”

Staring out over the city, Lana heard footsteps coming towards her over the roar of the crowd. She didn’t turn when she heard the footsteps, merely speaking over her shoulder. “Spot’s taken.”

“Hey there Clover, how have you been?” Caspian’s eyes lit up at the sight of the mentor, her face one of the friendliest he’d ever been privileged to know. Since he was a young boy, he trusted her first as the caretaker of him and Haydn’s playdates and secondly as someone to look up to in moral standing.

“Cas-” She smiled at the boy, she had watched grow up so closely. It was impressive into what kind of a man he had grown and Clover couldn’t say that she wasn’t entirely proud of him. “I’m- good. It’s okay. How about you?”

Oceana knew how lucky she was that Caspian even bothered to come.  She knew he hated these parties, so the fact that he put up with them for her sake was a very big deal.  When she found him, she brought a drink for both of them.  “I was beginning to think you ran off,” she teased him.  “Have I told you lately you’re the best boyfriend in the world?” she asked while offering him one of the drinks.