XIV. Desperate Times

For will is never quenched unless it will,
But operates as nature doth in fire
If violence a thousand times distort it.

Aquila Ferncliffe. 44.
District Two Citizen.

If she imagines hard enough, she can still hear her daughter's voice coming from the slightly cracked open door in the hallway. Aquila sees her too, in the shadows that cross her path as she's masquerading through the house, crawling into the walls before she can do anything about it. Maybe she's finally gone mad. If that's the case, lord know's Lydia's laughing in her grave over it, thinking, Thank the stars Vita's daughter finally lost her mind, it was about time after all. Aquila's never thought herself to be much like her mother, she's always been less subtle, but this much is true: Ferncliffe women never forget.

And that's why she'll never forget the way her Cyra screamed bloody mercy after that snake, that wretched creature Ludovicus Jornmark pushed her into the hellfire. You'd think that by the third generation, we'd be done with this family feud, but apparently not. Her husband Cassian used to always ask her why she still gave a damn about family drama that reached a climax years ago, and at least now Aquila can safely say, "This. This is why."

He knows better than to get involved when Aquila's angry, and she admits it herself, that's quite wise of him. Still, she wishes she could have some sort of support regarding the whole mess her life's once again spiraled into but all she has is Cassian saying, "I don't think Ludovicus actually pushed her into the fire, she probably just tripped. And if he did, well that's the nature of the Hunger Games. I doubt he had Lydia in his mind when he pushed her."

Maybe he's right. Maybe Ludovicus was thinking of victory Cyra died and not his dead grandmother. Or maybe Cyra really did get injured, but none of those explanations really satisfy Aquila. Besides, he didn't have to kill Cyra. There were two other Tributes alive who could've done it themselves… or, they wouldn't have been able to, Aquila's daughter outranked them all. Poor Ludovicus was probably afraid Cyra would overpower him if it came down to a proper fight, and that's why he killed her like a coward, pushing her into the flames like she was nothing.

The more she thinks about it, the angrier she gets, her feet pacing back and forth at her mother's bed and a disgruntled look on her face, "I just wish he could pay for it somehow. The fires at Shindy's seem to have done nothing to phase him."

Aquila remembers how remarkably calm Ludovicus was when he was interviewed on the radio about the destruction they'll never know she caused, his voice so calm he nearly sounded sedated, "Shindy Gregory's Academy truly helped to shape me into the man I am today, and I am devastated to think somebody would purposely harm a place that's helped so many people."

Bullshit! She'd wanted to throw her radio player across the living room that day. It's sickening, the way nothing can phase that kid. The way nothing can phase her daughter's murderer. Maybe that's why he won, because even after being burned to the ground again again, Ludovicus Jornmark continues to rise from the ashes unscathed. What a pitiful excuse for a person, and to think my Cyra was so close to sitting on the throne he'll never be fit for.

"Just to preface, I am neither encouraging nor in favor of killing anybody," Vita closes the small book in her hands and sighs, "That being said, if you really want to get under Ludovicus' skin, get under the skin of that nasty family of his, I don't think you should be targeting him directly."

It's sometimes hard for Aquila to remember the trauma her own mother's endured, being permanently screwed over by the Sheng family until she was convinced she'd be left to the wolves to rot. Vita's gotten a bit better at hiding her mounting anger, either that or she's too old to take any action, but Aquila knows that there's still a layer of vengeance underneath the kindness she wears on her skin. Besides, Cyra's death hit her just as hard, even if she's not been the most vocal about it.

At this point, Vita Ferncliffe's practically numb to the pain she's endured. The wrongdoings in the war and afterwards were just the beginning. When Auretta fell victim to the Sheng family in the 39th, Aquila didn't see her mother leave her bed for months, practically a shell of herself at the funeral. And with Cyra, she didn't even go to the service. Didn't need to look at the urn of her granddaughter that should've been a trophy celebrating her victory instead. She hasn't even left the second story of her house in the past four months, her meals taken to her on a tray to eat in bed, Aquila's bi-weekly visits hardly doing anything to lift her spirits.

"Meaning?" She quirks her brow and sits at the side of her mother's bed, "Did you know something I don't?"

The answer is yes. There's practically nothing Vita doesn't know, it's just a matter of how she decides to reveal the endless deck of cards in her hands.

"What do you remember about the year of the First Quell?" Aquila can already tell there's more to her question, "More specifically, directly after the Games."

She thinks back, she was just seventeen and she'd watched Hosanna Guerra embarrass Springridge by getting killed by an outer-District kid, and well Ammo Lawson had quite the reaction to her passing, one she wishes she'd have forgotten by now. That was before Aquila had realized the Games were very much not her calling. Well, more like Moira Mikkel from Copper Peaks used her sword to inform her the Games were very much not her calling, but that's besides the point. Really, Aquila had been so concerned with volunteering that she didn't remember much from that year.

So she answers, "It was a few years before the twins were born, but besides that, no not really."

Her mother sighs, "You mean you don't remember the little changing of the guards we had?"

That's all it takes for Aquila to remember. Just days after the Games, President Ravenstill dropped to the ground dead, the coroners declaring his death an accidental suicide from poison. Coriolanus Snow was elected just weeks later and put into office before the 26th Games. But what did that have to do with anything?

"Ravenstill's death was an accident, right?" She looks at Vita who's clearly unamused, "Or… it wasn't an accident."

Aquila can tell that she's wearing out her mother's patience, "It's time I let you in on something I've been keeping to myself. I think it could help your… our quest to get justice for Cyra."

She doesn't say anything, instead watching her mother lean to her night table and rummage through crumpled up paperwork with meticulosity. After a few minutes, Vita closes the drawer, now with a long receipt in her hands, "Could you pass me my glasses, dear?"

Her eyes scan the shelves on the corner of the rooms until again, Aquila's mother gives up and hands her daughter the paper, "Actually, could you just read this?"

Holding it closer to her face as to see better in the light, Aquila begins:

Ferncliffe Pharmaceuticals

35 Plith Plaza, Capitol
16th August, 25 ADD - 9:03

Sale #820172

1) Nightlock Cocktail …. $425
— Tax: — — $42.50
TOTAL: $467.50 — — — —

Customer Name: Coriolanus Snow

She doesn't believe it at first, "You're kidding?" Aquila nearly goes to hug her mother but that wouldn't really be appropriate now, "Is this real?"

"No, of course not. I just made it in case I was bored and wanted to falsely blackmail the president so I could be put out of my misery and executed," Vita deadpans, then cracks the slightest of smiles, "I'm kidding! For Panem's sake, it's real."

Just this small tidbit of information is enough to get the wheels turning in Aquila's brain… So he's only the President because he killed somebody, huh? And it's all she needs if she wants some semblance of revenge over the country, over the spoiled brat who ruined her life by taking away her daughter from her, Sure would be a shame if more people found this out, now would it…

Aquila Ferncliffe knows what she has to do, and while it won't be pretty, the feeling of glory she'll have when she sees Ludovicus Jornmark's head on a spike will make it all worth it.

Haymitch Abernathy. 18.
Victor of the 50th Hunger Games.
TW: Mention of drugs and alcohol.

There's many things he'd do in an ideal life to occupy his time in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week, while some fantasies are more benign than others, there is absolutely no perfect reality in which Haymitch is sat next to Noel in the middle of Twelve's Justice Building. Yet somehow… this has happened twice now. The first was two years ago, Haymitch had just heard his name called by the escort with the news that he would be one of four unfortunate individuals from Twelve sent to the Second Quarter Quell. He remembers being surrounded by his family, tears in their eyes as well as Noel's as they said what luckily wasn't their final farewells to him, yet somehow even that miserable day's better than now.

Because now it's just the two of them, just Haymitch and Noel… or, just Haymitch, Noel, and sound coming through the room next door as people crowd to get in a word with Vancouver Easton, the same girl Haymitch had met the previous day for… well reasons that didn't really pertain to the fact he'd be mentoring her in the Games.

What lovely company, He sighs, not even knowing what he's supposed to say to Noel at this point because… lord, what even is there to say? It doesn't take a genius to know that this was so clearly planned by the Capitol for the sole reason of punishing Haymitch specifically, since it seems killing his entire family just wasn't fucking enough for them, Always got to think of new ways to make me absolutely miserable, don't they now?

What's even worse is he saw this coming. He saw it coming from miles away and even talked to Noel about how sorry he was for this very probability, yet even then he stood on the stage of the town plaza with his jaw agape like a fucking idiot when Noel's name was called. Maybe some part deep down in the back of Haymitch's head thought that the Capitol was done making him suffer for the sole purpose of suffering, maybe part of him thought they'd finally have mercy on him, but Nope! I stay quiet all year, don't do a thing and this is what I get for it?

He wonders, Why are they so amused by the thought of me suffering? Are the death pageants not enough misery to pleasure them for the year without my boyfriend being one of the probable victims? He'd find their obsession with him funny if it weren't affecting him so negatively.

Even after all Haymitch's warning, and all his apologizing over the past weeks for all of his drunken rants just in case this happened, Noel's somehow just as shunned.

"You weren't kidding," He awkwardly chuckles to himself when Haymitch enters the room and wraps him into a hug, "They really do have it out for us… or, you at least."

It's a hug stronger than the one they shared two years ago and it almost feels more permanent. He thought he'd never see Noel again after that day, and even if they do have a week or so together in the Capitol now, what are the odds of another person from the least popular place in Panem making it out of the arena alive, especially one related to Snow's least favorite person?

They're hopeless.

Always were… or at least that was the feeling Haymitch had gotten as of late when his yelling at him became less and less angry and more and more just… miserable. He'd hopelessly prepared for this for nearly a year, listened to all of Sapphira's warnings like they were her own broken records yet he still can't say he's ready to say goodbye to the only person left alive to love him.

"I'm so sorry," He tilts his head up to whisper in Noel's ear, his lip trembling on his cold skin, "Not just for now, but for everything that's ever happened to you ever since I met you."

It's the same apology Haymitch gives day in and day out yet it's one his lover refuses to accept, "You didn't know all of this would happen when we first met, and really it's better that you didn't have to go through it alone."

At least not right now I don't, He sighs, wishing that he'd given Noel some sort of an ultimatum, forced him the two of them to break up and have him move out because maybe then he'd be safe, and as a result Haymitch would be safe too. Besides, he'd have a flask of gin to keep him company, and sure that's all he'll have less than a month from now, but at least the liquor won't be salted by tears of his lover's death.

The flask is in his messenger bag now, along with the products of his recent meeting with Vancouver, as he knows he'll need them to cope with the inevitable trauma, though what he hasn't thought through yet is what'll happen if Noel looks inside. Haymitch unfortunately lied to him a few weeks ago when he said that he hadn't drunk a single sip of anything since one of their more wild arguments, just so that Noel would be less worried for him, since the thought of his own death was haunting him enough and he didn't need any additional frets towards his boyfriend's drinking habits.

… At least he was drinking less, Haymitch could say that for certain. Though, that would be ignoring the fact he'd been taking pleasure in cocaine induced highs in the middle of the night as a not-so-healthy alternative that also wasn't much of an alternative since he still drank anyway. Whatever it was that Haymitch sniffed and smoked on any given night in addition to the alcohol, it unfortunately made him feel more at peace with himself and with the world than ever before, almost to the point where he'd once wondered why he even needed Noel to make him happy in the first place. But he can't tell him that, obviously, and Haymitch is smart enough to know having a lover is objectively better than any drug.

But still, the substances would be a lot easier to cover up if Haymitch didn't have to worry about Vancouver saying something about any of their interactions which would surely make Noel die a bit inside… Even when it's unplanned, the world always has a new method of fucking me over. But he couldn't go over to her and ask her not to talk about the drugs or anything, especially with Noel practically attached to his hip.

When her name was called, flocks of girls raised their hands to try and volunteer for her yet Vancouver had just stood proud and said, "I'll be fine. District Twelve, I'll be coming home to you soon." Somehow Haymitch imagines that outcome to be more likely than any where Noel's still with him until the end of time, because when push comes to shove, Vancouver Easton's nothing but ruthless. He knows damn well she'd do anything to maintain the sanctity of her Diamond Dust Kingdom, and if she knew her very own District Partner was dismissive of one of her top customer's spending habits, he'd be gone in an instant. And then it's not like Vancouver's the only threat in the arena either. Lord knows some Career prick would have it in them to slaughter Noel as revenge for Haymitch robbing them of their glory in the Quell if they knew of their relationship.

The more Haymitch thinks about it, the worse it gets. There's a myriad of possibilities for things going wrong and it seems that each one is even more tragic than the last yet they all have the same final outcome: unavoidable solitude, once and for all.

"I just wish this wasn't happening," He mutters, closing his eyes and resting his head on Noel's shoulder, "I wish none of these past two years have ever happened and it was just the two of us being idiots without responsibilities again."

It's pointless. It's so tragically pointless but Haymitch doesn't know what to do besides sigh at the reality of the world bending and breaking around him, a world he's begun to wish he was never born into at all because then his mother and his father and his sisters and now Noel would have a shot at life without being threatened by his own existence.

"I wish a lot of things," Noel sighs in exchange, "But most of all I wish that if this next week really is our last, we try to live each and every last minute to the fullest, you know, acting like idiots, as you just said. If I really do die in there, then I don't want our last memories together to be those of misery."

Tears form in Haymitch's eyes because damn he doesn't deserve this blessing of a boy after everything he's put him through, "That sounds nice. I can try that."

They part and look into one another's eyes, the youthfulness of when they were just kids slowly returning to their faces.

If only it really were that easy. If only Haymitch didn't have to worry about his other Mentee ruining everything with just a few words.

If only he hadn't already ruined everything for himself.

Liana Taylor. 41.
Head Gamemaker.

She really should know better by now than to agree to go on national television for late-night interviews, but it's not like Liana has a choice in the matter. It's been repeated again and again, she's the second most important person in all of Panem, which of course means people are eager to hear any words she'll give them, especially now that the Reapings are over and done and the Tributes for the first 52nd Annual Hunger Games will be in the Capitol in less than twenty-four hour's time.

Carefully maneuvering her way backstage, Liana stands behind a cameraman as she awaits Caesar Flickerman's likely too elaborate intoduction of her, doing her best to ignore the mess she had to pass to get here. Because no, the rumors haven't stopped, that she's responsible for Clemensia and Lysistrata's deaths and is the very same menace to society she thought she was during her Games. Just the small look she got at Quinto Clancularius who had all but hissed at her was enough to get Liana the slightest bit riled up, which of course didn't bode well for her upcoming television appearance.

She wishes she'd yelled at him the moment she heard him muttering to his friends about how it's a good thing Snow isn't nearby, or else she'd kill him too. She wishes she'd screamed, "The only reason I'd even think to kill him was as revenge for what he did to my friends. Because yes, you buffoon, it was the very ruler who's ass you kiss that killed them, not me," but that's a thing Liana would never do. It would've somehow gotten her in even more trouble anyway. And she always has bigger plans that are more important than simply being a diva.

As expected, Caesar monologues for nearly a minute straight on all her numerous accomplishments, yet the longer it goes on, the less Liana minds all the senseless praise. It's been a while since she heard such pleasantries in her direction, especially from a Capitolite, and she hates how hubristic it is of her, but she wishes he'd have never stopped complimenting her. With the passing of time Liana's began to realize that there's really not much of a problem with liking yourself enough that you also like hearing other people say they like you. Of course, she'd never admit just how much she relishes in every last word said about her, especially as they grow lesser and lesser.

"But anyways, enough of me talking about her, I'm sure you're all more than ready to hear from the mouth of our gamemaking magician herself," He finally wraps up his speech to applause from the audience, which is oddly relieving. Liana often forgets just how small Quinto's following is considering the Cancult consumes far too much of her thoughts, "Ladies and gentlemen… Liana Taylor!"

The cameraman follows her onto the stage, stopping her in the center so she can flash an awkward smile at the crowd before sitting beside Caesar in the white-leather chair she's grown far too familiar with sitting in over the decades. Before Caesar, it was his father Lucky who often requested to interview Liana for the masses, especially as it became more and more clear that she'd eventually be leaving life as a Mentor and heading off to bigger and better things. While the two of them never spoke all that much off-camera, she always enjoyed his support enough that the news of his passing had actually saddened her quite a bit.

"Thank you for having me tonight," She does her best to sound as friendly as possible, knowing that there's a group of people in their living room writing down her every word in hopes of finding something to exploit her with, "It seems I haven't seen you since last years' Games."

"The pleasure's all mine," Caesar replies, leaning forward in his chair with a sense of eagerness, "Besides, I'm sure everybody in Panem's understanding of the fact that having to plan your first Games in full is quite the undertaking, in addition to everything else you're going through… which we don't have to talk about."

That last part's an… odd addition, that's for sure, definitely something where she has to choose her reaction carefully, so Liana aptly nods and says, "I obviously miss Clemensia and Lysistrata quite dearly, even now that it's already been almost a year. I'll do my best to live up to the platform they've so graciously elevated me to."

What follows is a silence that lasts a tad too long to be comfortable, Caesar eventually breaking it to say, "Well! I take it you've watched the same Reapings we all saw. Do you have any insight onto this year's cast of Tributes you can bestow upon us?"

Of course, Liana had already overanalyzed every last move of the twenty-four victims of her official first Games as their names were called, or as they volunteered themselves for her slaughter, and well… as could be said on any given year, it was for sure an interesting bunch this time around.

"Depends what you want me to say?" She smirks, almost like she's a child again running through that village and cooking pasta on rocks.

Caesar cocks his head to the sky and squints, "Well for starters, I'm sure you saw that we have quite a fair bit of volunteers this year yet again."

"Ah yes," Liana licks her lips. Even after all this time and the fact she's began to genuinely enjoy the Hunger Games and all the thrills they involve, she could never imagine willingly casting herself into them. She understands enough about the training systems that aren't technically legal in One, Two, and Four, so it's typically the volunteers from any outlying District that really catch her eye. Of course, last year had Luminosity from Three who was likely trying to clear her name, and Chandler from Eleven who'd gone in to protect his family and his District Partner per his interview, but even then Liana would never really understand their thought processes.

In a lot of ways, Liana's been rather lucky. Before the Games, the most "devastating" thing to ever happen to her was the occasional moment where her father would try to take credit for something she'd been working on in the basement, and that's honestly nothing in comparison to the hurt some people have felt to the extent they're eager to die in order to escape it. Well… maybe not eager, but they're certainly willing to go to hell for a one in twenty-four chance of coming out. For that reason it's usually their stories that Liana's most disappointed to see end, yet they very rarely have it in them to win.

"So for starters, we of course have the usual suspects from One, Two, and Four," She leans back a bit, "And what's nice to see, is this time is the fact they all volunteered before walking up to the stage." The audience laughs at her reference to last year when Saia from Four's own name was called at the ceremony and he "volunteered" for himself on stage for everybody to see, "I think it's safe for me to say now that they'll likely ally with one another, though I for sure question how long they'll last."

In Liana's experiences as a participant, observer, and now mastermind in the Games, the large volunteer alliances tend to start out strong and then fizzle out by the time half the competition remains. It happened her own year when Lana from Four began slowly killing off her allies, and it happened last year when Hesson from One split off from the rest of the group leaving his partner to rot. She tacks on, "I heard great things about that Icarus St. Augustine, so maybe One will actually win this time instead of coming in second place yet again."

Liana recalls the poise and posterity he had when he volunteered, somehow more elevated than that of the typical person in his position, all in spite of the bitter look on his District Partner Lethia's face, "And then of course I think it's wise if we look at Beowulf Haleot, considering he's in a good position now after Ludovicus' recent win."

While his partner Endellion seemed to have the same carefreeness and joy to her that made Ludovicus so popular, Beowulf himself appeared almost robotic when he walked to the stage. Such monotony wasn't exactly rare in Two, yet there was certainly something about him that made him seem more… fragmented, almost.

"And then your thoughts on Four?" Caesar pries, his eyes all bright and eager like Liana's kittens at home.

"They seem different from One and Two this year," Liana acknowledges, particularly thinking about how angry the boy Calsin looked, almost as if he didn't even have a choice in the matter, "The boy's got an attitude for sure, yet they both seem promising—"

Before she can say any more, Caesar cuts her off, which she doesn't really mind, "I don't know if you saw my interview with Caspian Zale last week, but he said that their female volunteer was really the force to be reckoned with. What do you think of that?"

"Well I saw the interview, of course," She lies, not sure what she was doing at the time but knowing it was for sure more interesting then watching some Victor gloat about his successes, "And really, Atlantis does seem impressive, but I'm sure you know I'm not all that afraid of urban legends from District Four." She waits a bit for the audience to react and continues, "But basically what I was going to say, is that I think there's a lot of big personalities between these six, and I wonder how well it's going to turn out."

Her words seem to do enough to satisfy the audience, but Caesar is of course insistent that they all be privy to even more of her precious thoughts, "And do you think anything of the volunteers from Six and Ten?"

To that, Liana just laughs, "Well what happened in Six was probably one of the weirdest things I've seen in my entire life."

Caesar chuckles just the same before pressing a button on his wrist watch which leads to the screen behind the two of them playing a video from earlier that day. There's of course, Mozi Hongqi who's probably a threat in her own right walking up the stairs with some semblance of acceptance, but that's far from what's notable here.

As soon as the escort reads the name of a male Tribute, and a rather innocent looking child takes to the stage, a scream's heard from the seventeens section of the pens, followed by the footsteps of a tall boy with bleached blonde hair as he practically crawls on the stage before tackling the younger boy to the ground and proudly standing tall.

The escort had asked the boy "Are you saying you want to volunteer for the Games?" while surrounding Peacekeepers grabbed onto his arms and legs, and in response the boy simply nodded. When his name was asked, all he did was sigh, though later reports identified him as Malin Mardari, who just so happens to be currently locked in one of the District prisons on murder charges.

She's still giggling when the clip stops playing, "Well we know he'll be a wildcard, that's for sure." That seems to be enough to please the masses, "The boy from Ten too, but he seemed to know what he was doing."

"I take it you know who he is?" Caesar asks.

"Of course," Liana remembers when the story of Simeon Coello shooting up a bar and sending Ten into an utter frenzy first broke. It seemed like everybody knew the tale of the spree-killer, and how he was never seen again, until apparently now, "Well for one, I feel bad for his poor District Partner, but beyond that I'm excited to see what he brings to the table."

"Right, because I think we all know he can shoot a gun, but that's a skill that won't be all that helpful in the arena," He adds, and that leaves Liana's brain to spin for a bit at the possibility of a notorious murderer back again in a venue of killing with his preferred weapon of madness, "I pity anybody who gets close to him all the same."

She smiles, trying not to let her eyes roll too much as she considers all that could be done to induce horrifically glorious entertainment in the form of Simeon Coello with the right tools. Caesar's quick to ask her another question though, "Besides the volunteers, do you see any other major players this year?"

Liana thinks for a moment before answering, "Well Mozi from Six certainly had a twisted look on her face today, I will say that. And Judas from Seven seemed to have above average physical prowess. Then obviously, Vancouver from Twelve caught my eye, mainly because of the way she dismissed all the people trying to volunteer in her place. I also was immediately stricken aback by Hedy… though I'm sure you know why."

"Hedy? I'd have never thought so," Caesar teases her, though clearly out of love. Liana does have to admit that she saw a bit of herself in the young ginger girl from District Three with an abnormally serious disposition.

"I know right, it's totally crazy," She plays back gesturing at her own red hair which causes a bout of laughter from the crowd, "I've got to say, we have a solid set of Tributes this year."

Her mind wanders again, this time to the somewhat hilarious expression of existential dread on Verdigris from Five's face, same with Fennella from Nine who apparently was behind the recent passing of their mayor. That's definitely not a coincidence, same with Haymitch Abernathy's boyfriend being chosen, which is really quite sad actually. In a way, it's a blessing Liana's never been able to love someone to the point where them dying would absolutely destroy her. The closest thing to having a soulmate in any regard is the love she feels for Minerva the cat, though she knows that critter's going to be safe forever, considering the immaculate quality of Liana's care for her.

"I always ask you this, even if it's just in private, but being from the Districts themselves, do you ever just feel kind of bad for the Tributes?" Caesar takes a moment to let his sentiments truly sink in, "Like Bud from Nine and Ascot from Eight, they both seemed so innocent. Truly, I'm just curious what you think."

The sad truth is, Liana doesn't feel a drop of remorse for them. She was hardly fifteen when she had the grit and determination to make it out of the arena alive, and if they really want it, they can figure it out just the same.

"Well for one, I hardly consider myself District-born at this point," She tries to jab at her negative overseers, "That's just the nature of the Games though. Our lovely Capitol protected the Districts even in their times of treason, and while I could see why some people would deem it unfortunate, it's the price the Districts have to pay for what they did."

She's not sure if she believes her own words, but her conviction is enough to send the audience into glorious cheering. But ultimately the Hunger Games are just that, a game. And Liana Taylor can never complain if she finds a way to win, time and time again.

Ayo! First Chapitol done let's fucking go! Back at it again with the poems at the beginning of the chapter it feels like home. We first had some fun times with my new bff Aquila and her hot capitol gossip that she will probably not do very good things with. Next we had Gaybitch Abernasty back at it again getting all gay bitchy and nasty, this time fully letting it sink in his boyfriend is a non-POV Tribute in a partial SYOT which basically means he's dead at some point. At least he has Vancouver to rely on… not, Ha! We rounded off this glorious serving of entertainment with the HBIC of Panem Liana Taylor who made a special appearance on the news and displayed an impressive amount of moral grayness in the process. I know not all the Tributes were talked about to the same extent, but it be like that and has nothing to do with how I feel about them… like obvi Liana is going to have the most to think about the volunteers, the ever-so controversial District Twelve, and the ginger D3F. I hope the answer to how the fuck Malin volunteered was satisfying because when I read that on their form I peed myself. Also, sorry Liana misgendered them she really had no way of knowing I promise she hates everybody equally.

So yeah! Some saucy content being cooked up for the first time this fic on my new computer… hope you enjoyed… Next time we will be back with the Tributes as they go on trains and then chariots and communicate with one another. Definitely will be fun and sexy unless a smol kid is featured in which case it will just be fun!

Fuck this shit, I'm out,
Linds