Chapter Three: Part Two
Disclaimer: I do not own this!
AN: Chapter three still not finished, maybe we will get there with the next update.
Their destination was floor seven, for although Johanna was inhospitable and snarky (more so than Haymitch who tried his best to win the spot from her, but failed due to the general alcoholic slur and downright confusion that marred his biting comments), she was also the best at driving off unwanted company.
No tribute was willing to endure her abrasive nature for a second longer than necessary, no matter what lifesaving advice might be gained from such a feat. No Capitol escort or stylist had the stomach or nerve to willingly face her lengthy diabolical tirades aimed at them, and so adopted a policy of avoidance is best. Even the avoxs tried their best to follow this policy when possible. Only the victors saw her acerbic remarks as entertainment and understood the morbid amusement that fuelled them.
So more often than not a gathering of the best company, at least in Finnick's mind, was to be found on the seventh floor of the training centre. Indeed, there were very few seats left by the time Finnick and Mags rolled by the party.
It was Gloss who noticed them first and jumped up to give Mags his seat, leaving him and Finnick to prop up a nearby wall.
Finnick had always found Gloss an interesting character, while most victors from districts one and two completely bought into the Capitol dogma - hell there is even occasional Victor from Finnick's own district that will happily recite the Capitol's mantra as though it was a God given gift, such a guy won the 73rd hunger games, an ugly brute that Finnick wasn't proud to bring home - there are a few who see through the Capitol's lies.
They keep their silence though; obeyed the cardinal rules for the Capitol's favourite two districts - love everything Capitol, hate everything from the outlying districts, show as little human emotion as possible. Indeed, although Gloss was as silent as his sister was a vivacious Capitol flirt, that silence could easily be interpreted as an arrogant self-belief that he is too good for everything around him to deign talking.
However, every now and then he would slip; the pain that flirted through his eyes every time Cashmere flounder off to an appointment, bragging how much the Capitol loved her; offering Mags his seat; quietly providing Haymitch a much needed bottle after the loss of another tribute; occasionally settling his silent brooding presence in the living area on the seventh floor, when he could escape his controlling sister. Small things but there nevertheless.
Finnick wasn't sure if Gloss was aware of the rebellious whispers that were reverently murmured in secret spots, or if he did what he thought of them, either way Finnick wasn't worried. The lounge on the seventh floor, as much as many may consider it home, was still no place for such talk.
As everyone became aware of their presence they were greeted with various welcomes, though Gloss did little more to acknowledge them. If anything he attempted to ignore them and pretend he hadn't just given Mags his seat.
Johanna was first to start in on the barbs she had been preparing since the incident before the parade. Not even sparing Mags and Finnick a greeting.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't fishbrain, can't land a girl even if his finns depended on it! We thought you were better than that fishbrain, looks like it's all just talk! No wonder you took so long showing your face round here, now we all know you're a flop!"
The glee that she had found a girl that wasn't a victor and wasn't susceptible to Finnick's charms resonated with every word she spat out. It had annoyed her to no end that even the 'normal' people from the districts were as enchanted by his good looks and fame as the capitolites that bought him.
Finnick sometimes couldn't decide which annoyed him more the sheeple that filled the districts or Johanna. The sheeple won only by default. Johanna he could forgive.
She had been a mess when she came out the games, though she pulled of a convincing front of sanity for the cameras, while only the threat of sedation kept her from a murdering rampage when they were gone. In such a state of mind of there was no way she was ever going to accept the President's generous offer and it was too late by the time she got home.
Finnick had been with the wife of a man who had been part of the President's guard detail the day Johanna had been presented with Snow's gift. The gaudy women had been all too eager to share how the latest Victor had tried to kill the President and had to be sedated, 'so very scandalous' she had squealed seductively 'doesn't she know the honour it is to be a victor'.
Finnick had smiled and agreed and flattered, until he was sent home. Torn between feeling grateful that his offer had come two year after his games so he had a chance to save his family; feeling heartbroken for his fellow Victor; feeling outrage that any of this could happen; feeling nothing as even after having maimed his soul beyond recognition, forced him to sell body and his dignity, Snow still found more to take from him and had taken Annie when he tried to refuse. Feeling nothing was sometimes all he could manage. That and hate: all-encompassing hate.
Finnick didn't see Johanna for the next two years after her games, though head peacekeepers returning from the district and had thought to buy his favour - a treat after being away from the Capitol for so long - would whisper titbits about the newest Victor from seven when he asked for their secrets.
He knew she would never tell him that she had locked herself into her old house for a year drowning in her loss, in her new demons and nightmares. She would never admit that it had been a year before she recognised the comforting words of Sabille Rosehearty and Eero Nitya, who had faithfully taken turns to bring food and comfort to their fellow Victor. She would never say that it had then taken her another full year to pull herself back together, to fuel her anger and cleave from it a new her - defiant and unbreakable to the Capitol's will. She would never say, but he never stopped others from spilling her secrets.
When she had arrived for the 73rd hunger games, a knowing smirk had masked the fear, and horror, and the slowly fading strength that had filled her eyes when Finnick had last seen her picking obsessively at the ostentatious outfit that had been draped uncomfortably over her slight form at her Victor's party. The venomous comments that spat from her mouth was now the backbone that kept her fighting.
Though Finnick would always silently admire her determination not to become another outer district Victor that had lost their mind to alcohol or morphling, and had formed a strong camaraderie with her based on a twisted mutual respect, she was nothing compared to Katniss.
What many thought was a cunning strategy on Johanna's part, most who were mentoring that year knew that it was nothing more than lucky happenstance. If a mentor thought that anyone from their district had a chance, they would do all they could to get them sponsors, and any tribute who had any thoughts of surviving would grab on to the possibility of help in the area like the life line it was.
Blight and Eero had been visibly angry with her apathy and her insistence that she could never kill anyone. They had known of her skill with an axe. They had hoped that they might have a chance at the dubious honour of bringing someone home and had despaired at her righteous naivety.
Yet like a wild cornered animal, when attacked she fought back with everything she had to devastating effect. Her strength had been forged from the loss of her fragile naivety. It was a strength that came solely from her own refusal to give in, to let Snow win, but it was barbed and would never bend to help another unless such action would help screw over the author of her pain.
Yes, Johanna he could forgive for her scathing tongue, Johanna he could respect.
The repressed idiots that filled the districts, that meekly stood by and watched their children be slaughtered, that fawned over the image of him, used his empty victory as an excuse for their weakness: the sheeple he could never respect. The closest Finnick would ever come to holding any respect for them, is if they actually stood up and grabbed this opportunity of rebellion.
So he allowed the sniggering, the contained amusement of some, and the outright guffawing of others, to pass with a sigh as he formed his own comeback, a cocky smirk confidently plastered on his face.
"Not my fault my skills are so rusty, what with women and men constantly just falling at my feet, never had need of them before. Why I even remember a feisty Victor from district 7 dubbing me a pretty boy and swooning over my general awesomeness"
Not a total exaggeration Finnick thought, as he smirked proudly at Johanna's huff. Finnick wasn't entirely sure but he thought he even saw a glint of amusement in the eyes of the ever stoic Gloss at his witty retort, either that or Gloss simply wanted to murder someone – he's a really hard guy to read.
"Urrgh" Johanna burst "please do not remind me! Thankfully I caught on pretty quick you have the brain of a fish, Fishbrains. No one wants a pretty face with nothing to back it up."
"You're just jealous, jojo" Finnick replied quickly with a knowing smile.
"Keep telling yourself that Fishbrains! One day it might even bring comfort" Her voice dripped with sarcasm, a hollow compassion showed in her eyes: no one wanted to be pretty enough to catch Snow's attention, not when they were a victor.
At that moment, Haymitch had decided enough time had passed without his gravelly slur of a voice disturbing the peace. Though his bright eyes proved he still hadn't had a drop of his personal ambrosia, for reasons Finnick couldn't understand, he kept up his drunken personality. Maybe it was simply habit, maybe it made him feel better about being sober, either way the grating grumble now assaulted Finnick's ears. Though Finnick was secretly pleased the attention was now on the old drunk: it was him after all that he had come to interrogate.
"Don't give him such a hard time, Jojo, Fishboy has some wounds to lick" Haymitch snorted.
Only Chaff chuckled with him; nearly everyone else sighed with indulgent resignation; though Johanna huffed with annoyance that her venomous grandstanding had been had been interrupted; while Gloss ... well Gloss seemed to be frowning at an odd looking vase, that would be ideal for the Capitol to hide a bugging device in, apparently uncaring of the conversation being held; and Mags just smiled knowingly at Finnick, in fact if it wasn't for his ever perfected situational awareness, Finnick would wonder if he had missed a sly wink in his direction.
"Don't suppose an old drunk like you would care to enlighten us about the newest member of our family?" He lightly queried, his eyes searching Haymitch's.
"Where is she anyway?" He continued, his eyes leaving Haymitch, to scour the room for her presence, on the off chance he had missed her: unlikely, he thought, despite his eyes current activity, for he fully believed he would know the second he was in her fiery presence.
Haymitch and Johanna's voice clashed cruelly, in an attempt to be the first to respond - Haymitch's rasping rumble providing an off-key backing to Johanna's caustic hiss.
"She not part of our family, and considering what's required in winning, we will never be part of hers, fishbrains, not that she has a chance."
"Finally recognised me as your superior, Fishboy, come to beg for my help, my wonderful advice? Hmmm? As for where she is, locked in her room, plotting on ways to kill us all!" Haymitch finished, emphasizing his last point with a slap to his knees, leaning back with an entirely too self-satisfied smile on his face.
"Didn't you hear me, you crazy drunk." Johanna butted in, on catching the end of Haymicth' speech. "Against us," her hand working erratically to visually include everyone in her statement. "She doesn't stand a chance, no matter how hard she plots away to herself"
"That's not true, she has as good a chance as any of us" Cecelia defended, before Finnick could open his mouth to play knight in shining armour, standing up for his damsel's honour (not that Finnick thought Katniss could ever fit into that description, but while she's not present he could pretend).
He could see the compassion, developed by years of motherhood, shining in Cecelia's eyes, but also the fear: the fear that she might under-estimate someone, costing her life, her chance to see her own kids again.
"She will certainly have a few sponsors after that fiery entrance, and every now and then the Capitol likes to root for an underdog" Yohan commented.
Being a victor from district three, Yohan's analytical brain was always her most notable character. Finnick knew she was often overlooked when compared to Beetee's genius, but what she lacked on technical know-how, she outstripped him on strategic planning and was key to their rebellion. However she managed to escape the reaping bowl, just proved how well she could plan and blended in.
Finnick knew it was not coincidence that it was his name that came out of the reaping bowl. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if it was rigged for Annie's name to once again be picked: further punishment from Snow, for having the impudence to want to escape the accursed prison the President had carefully constructed for him.
Beside him, Finnick could feel Gloss tense, and he knew that if he were to glance in his direction, he would see Gloss focused with hawk like intensity on Haymitch. It would seem he wasn't the only one interested in the new unknown. Indeed, even the one morphling that had joined them for the evening, sharpened their drug induced gaze on Haymitch with interest.
Our killer instincts on edge at the imperceptible danger that could lurk within the fiery depth of Katniss Everdeen. Though with Gloss, Finnick thought, it was impossible to tell whether he would use any information gathered offensively, defensively or to further the cause of the rebellion. Everyone else in the room, Finnick was confident, sat in the one or both of the latter two camps.
It was Chaff, who brought everyone's thoughts to a point and voiced the unspoken question being directed at Haymitch.
"Go on you old dog, don't keep us waiting, tell us about the new girl"
"And what makes you think I'd willing hand over any information on my own district partner to you lot? Hmmm?"
"So you don't have to be the one to kill her" Gloss' cold voice came quick and quiet, with a glare thrown at the vase he had been studying earlier.
With such a statement as that one might think his position decided. Yet Finnick couldn't help but note the lack of bloodthirsty viciousness with which the statement was delivered and the slight softening in his eyes. It always seemed a futile task, in Finnick' opinion, to pin the man down, he could after all just be a great actor.
Haymitch's furious outrage that attempted to glare at Gloss, was offset by the defeated hunch of shoulders as he bodily crumpled into Chaff, his loyal friend not hesitating in accepting his new role as a physical support mechanism.
Tension slowly ratcheted up, with every second Haymitch refused to speak. Slowly the conscious thought that soon they would all be in an arena where the only goal is to kill each other, turn on each other, was the only thought left in their mind. They had all been here before. Been here and survived. But with friends, respected colleagues as your enemy, everything was worse. Even though there was a plan for most of them to escape, things change in the arena, they always do and the cool ice of death slipped through their veins.
Just as the tension was about to consume all, and Finnick, along with everyone else he assumed, began to plan an escape route to high tail it out of there, Mags' hand snapped out and hit Gloss' thigh with a resounding smack!
Everyone jumped at the sound and everyone conceded to nervous laughter at the sight of Mags imperial point to the refreshments. The side of Gloss' mouth twitched up, whether as a nervous tick that showed as his perfect control over his murderous intentions slipped or to conceal a kindly amusement Finnick couldn't guess.
As soon as Finnick saw Gloss turn his gaze towards him, a questioning tone hidden in their depth, he jumped off his comfortable slouch against the wall.
"Forgive me Mags, my dearest, most beautiful woman in my life. How remiss of me for not seeing to your every need" Finnick intoned, giving a low bow, with many excessive flourishes, as he passed on the way to the table.
The slight mocking note of the bow, causing Seeder to remonstrate "You should be grovelling, boy, you need to learn to respect your elders, and I'll have hot chocolate while you are at it."
Finnick looked over to old Victor from district seven to see wrinkled eyes twinkle with weary mischief - instead the naughty zeal for chaos, that one might expect to see in such an expression, it had been diminished by nightmare after nightmare.
Soon the air sounded with merry cat calls and various orders that Finnick accepted with a groan and a grumble. It was a Victor thing: 'if we don't laugh, we cry' and above anything victors survive.
Once all was settled again, it was Chaff who had the nerve to return to the original subject: Katniss Everdeen.
"So come on mate" he griped "tell us about little miss fire fly."
The statement was accompanied with copious nudges to his long time drinking companion and the occasional pointed poke, that didn't stop when his speech did. All focus immediately returned to Haymitch, who valiantly tried to evade Chaff's assault without moving too much - just some ungainly arm flapping.
"Not much to tell" Haymich returned. Finnick nearly groaned, while the rest of the room huffed and sighed at Haymitch's prevaricating.
"Come on" Chaff cajoled with some extra vicious poking.
"Yeah, you shared a train for 24 hours, for god sake, you must've learned something, or are you really that unobservant?" Johanna added waspishly.
"Hard to observe anything when she spent the whole time locked in her room or being nauseatingly sweet to Effie - I couldn't stay in the room that! Spoil my perfectly good appetite it would" Haymitch sat back with a huff.
"Well that would indicate she is definitely looking for sponsors" Yonhan stated, seeming pleased that her original thought panned out " and that in turn would indicate she has some skill that she plans to utilize to help her survive in the arena."
"Well we all know what that skill is" Johanna threw in quickly, her biting glare zeroing in on Finnick, amusement dancing in her eyes "landing Fishbrains on his back, not that it's all that difficult"
Everyone hemmed and hawed through their sniggers at this. While Finnick privately thought that would explain the annoyance that flashed thew her eyes - hand to hand combat is a good skill to have and one she would want to keep quiet if only for the element of surprise. Eventually, everyone turned to Haymitch looking for some conformation on their theories.
Haymitch glowered and groaned, but was ultimately urged on by a well placed jab to his ribs from Chaff.
"She is loverboy's sweetheart" Haymitch growled out, as if that explained everything. Everyone else looked on bewildered. Johanna, unsurprisingly, was the first one to point this out.
"And what's that supposed to mean? Forgot got how to communicate with someone who is not drunk out their mind? Alcohol melted your brain?" Her irritation showing more with every objugration that spewed from her mouth.
"You know ... my most successful tribute ... EVER" Haymitch roared, his hands gesticulating as if to push the unexplained thought towards everyone through some unseen mind connection. All the other Victors sat there stunned, waiting numbly, for this unbelievable feat to happen. Even Johanna sat in silence, anticipating with suspense the moment when Haymitch's hand waving would strike her with some untold knowledge.
"You mean ... was it Peter? Your tribute last year?" Seeder finally whispered quietly, being the much more level headed of the two tributes from District 11, she had worked out that poking can only get you so far.
"Yes" Haymitch exclaimed exasperatedly, a final point of his finger indicating that he thought he was finally understood and that the exhausting interrogation, for all parties, had come to an end.
Everyone else sat in mild panic, the hand waving had stopped and still none of them knew what he was on about: their chance to understand gone with those resting hands.
"... and this relates to your new tribute ... how?" Seeder gently prodded.
"She ain't my tribute" Haymitch glowered back.
Before Seeder could fashion a response, Haymitch was on the receiving end of numerous exasperated glares, each as impressive as the next, even Chaff had turned on him to give an unimpressed scowl.
Haymitch huffed before his hand started their hypnotic dance once again, his voice dragging slowly over each word to better aid his audience' understanding.
"He was in love with sweetheart. Sweetheart got interviewed. That drew some ... unsavoury attention her way. Got her lost puppy to teach her some moves. That and had her family o'healers share a bit o' knowledge with her."
Done with his explanation Haymitch sagged back into his seat, while everyone else digest what he had said.
Finnick's mind played back his last transaction with his girl of fire and mentally groaned at some of the things that passed through his lips. With this new piece of information, her actions towards him made a lot more sense. Though more questions popped up in his mind; like how did a lost puppy teach her anything let alone moves? and why hadn't he seen the footage of her interview?
Finnick supposed the first question could be answered by Haymitch's infernal habit of giving people bizarre nick names - where he got sweetheart for Katniss Everdeen, Finnick would never know.
Before Finnick could ponder over the footage, sure he wouldn't have forgot it if he had seen it, Yohan's analytical mind began the cross examination.
"So she is a healer?"
"No"
"She has knowledge of healing?"
"Nah, far as I can tell, she's as squeamish as they come"
"So other than hand to hand combat and some strategic planning in terms of getting sponsors, she brings nothing else to the games?"
"How should I know! ... but it's doubtful. From the Seam after all, their all too busy starving to learn anything of use"
Yohan sat back with a nod as she filed and cross filed this information, to be used to her, and Finnick hoped their, best advantage. Haymitch just glared sullenly.
Though if Finnick knew Haymitch, and most people gathered in the District 7 living area did know the old drunk pretty well, that was only the beginning of the story. Whether the drunk knew more or suspected more, Haymitch would never give up more than this in such an open space. Yet the few crumbs that Haymitch had reluctantly thrown them, stilled their nerves and gave their minds something to chew over.
A comfortable silence settled over them, as each digested every titbit Haymitch had revealed. Finnick tried to put the pieces together with the fiery girl he met.
She was apparently dirt poor, yet she didn't look as starved as some, if not most, of the tributes for twelve, nor did her family have an occupation that would be held by the poorest in the District. Perhaps that was a lie on Haymitch's part, but something in Finnick's gut said it was the truth.
Then there was her previous brush with the hunger games and the trials they caused. Definitely explained her standoffish behaviour. Though more immediately there was the footage Finnick needed to find. Perhaps he could convince Julius, the escort for five, who was sweet on him, to find it for him.
Eventually conversation started back up, innocuous statements sprinkled through the many friendly jibes and the general competition to cause the most humiliation possible for any other member of their group, bar Gloss. Gloss just stood there: an inscrutable statue.
Finnick relaxed in the presence of those he consider family, as much as he could anyway, with a nagging need at the back of his mind to find that footage and possible impending doom lingering over all their heads. Slowly late evening crept into the early hours of the morning, and the party reluctantly broke away to find some nightmare filled sleep so a new day could begin.
AN: unfamiliar names come from the list of victors provided in the film. Thank you so much for all the reviews.