Warnings: OOC Coriolanus Snow, certain parts that may be hard to get until the end, italics.

This story is to be read, not to be eaten.

Enjoy the flavor.

I'll mention this, as a reviewer was confused: "He" is a rose vine that was raised from a seed from D13. It's probably a little too confusing; the purpose of the rose vine I call "he" is to give Snow a bit of insanity, you could say. Snow's at least off the shallow end already if he starts listening to a rose for all his advice and wants to give it a huge funeral.

He's from the same home as Coriolanus: 13, and he's a beautiful, intelligent one. And that's exactly what the Capitol wants: someone more beautiful than they could ever be and someone so intelligent he might as well be a god. Or encyclopedia.

There's the deal: we move to the Capitol in the middle of the night and I'll support you. But you have to be my muse and give me ideas on how to get to the top.

He says, "All right," and deal is sealed.


There's a million ideas that came out of his mouth, all original and fresh and new and they all poison and kill those stupid, corrupt Capitol people that think they're so smart (well, they are, but Coriolanus and he are so much smarter).

The two of them are so similar to each other that you might think they're brothers except there's certain parts that don't pertain. There's the charm that you just place a finger on but you know it exists and somehow they just know what to decoy you with and what not to so as to speak, and you drink the poisonous cup that you think is pure.

Of course, brothers quarrel, and sometimes he might die, but Coriolanus is never that rough, and the worst thing that happens is a bruise.


Coriolanus keeps climbing and climbing and climbing until he's already some type of secretary, but he doesn't really pay attention (that's not his job), but keeps coming up with ways to rid the world of the president and his children and VP. Besides, there's got to be some way to get rid of those girls who find the secretary so charming and handsome and modify their bodies until they're unrecognizable and filled with birth defects. Or the ones that think they are oh, so attractive, when they really aren't and get so harassing and annoying.

Poisoning them would be so very cruel, because they don't know the effect they don't have and how sickening they are to the rest of the world. After all they're simply doing what they were born to do. The Capitol may be rich and its food is so delicious (though tainted with sweat of poor chef) it might as well be heaven, but the district people are so much more bearable despite how you might be talking about skeletons, and Coriolanus wishes that you could talk to the tributes when it comes to picking a wife.

In the meantime, he goes ahead and encourages the Capitol girls who love him because he's just that type of nice person despite the fact that there are a few million gallons of Capitolian blood on him. Oh well, suitors can't see it anyway.

In the end, there is a girl that's modified and stenciled, but traced from a pretty stencil and modified in a natural way who attracts him. They coil around each other and decide that they will be together even if the other girls get mad.


There is the day when Panem says 'hi' to a new president, and they don't know that he's not a Capitolian but rather 13'd, and but that's fine, he's still innocent looking to be accepted.

Old president had been dying a long time ago, and he got to choose his successor not from election because Panem doesn't need that type of stupid thing. And of course he chose Coriolanus Snow because his VP's gone and he only has a little daughter that's so fragile that you can pop her with a pin.

Coriolanus feels a type of pity for that little girl, and can't believe that she's actually a legal adult because of how stunted she seems. There's the people who don't respect her anymore because her father's dead and can't get them free stuff anymore, and they aren't that nice and she might just die. Being the kind person he is, Coriolanus visits the girl who's his ward at the moment, and befriends her.

Thank goodness, she's never had plastic surgery because she was so delicate that a surgeon's knife might as well kill her, so she at least looks like a bearable person. And she's sheltered from the rest of the Capitolian's follies (mostly, they still pick out her clothes for her), so she's quite academic. Coriolanus somewhat likes her and asks her to become Mrs. Snow.

She says yes, and then a bundle a secrets about Coriolanus and him are shoved deeper into Coriolanus' memory.

(Mrs. Snow notices something awry when she kisses Coriolanus.)


He and Coriolanus become estranged after a few years: they each have their worries and families and politics and whatever; it ain't the old days.

But Coriolanus still visits him, and brings along his wife and children, and introduces them to him.

He's had children too, and a Capitolian wife that smells hellishly like heaven. Their children are as beautiful as their father and as fragrant as their mother, but they are shallow like the rest of the Capitol because they weren't raised in a boot camp. They were raised in a Gilt Age. His children play with Coriolanus' children, though the latter are so much stronger and sometimes the former might die.

That's fine, that's fine: that's what they were born to do.


One day he dies. Time's always on Coriolanus' side, not his, so there: they must be separated.

Coriolanus might hold a public funeral if he could, complete with all obsequies and respects, etc., but it will be too conspicuous and might ruin him. And his family mustn't know either: the funeral is in the night, and only Coriolanus and his family are present. It's not a sorrowful event, because Coriolanus is the only one showing sorrow and the others are all indifferent.

But his children outlive him, and though they'll never be the same hardboiled, resourceful accomplice he was, they'll fit in Coriolanus's chest pocket. They'll also fit in places Coriolanus will never: a poisonous stew, Katniss' house, heaven…

Ah. Tell me what you think. I have an odd Snow fetish, and in fact I like him better than Mr. Odair. In reading, that is. :. I'd rather meet Finnick. Please contribute to an inflating mass of feedback that will help me write, as "review and review and review" will eventually give you hearing problems.