"Unlike some other escorts I had, I don't actually want to push you down the stairs..." He tossed a nasty look Viola's way but his former escort ignored him. - Your latest HaDS just inspired me for a new prompt: Haymitch and Chaff more or less playfully plan Viola's demise. Effie somehow eavesdrops and is first appaled though of course only until she learns who they're planning to off. - 13Fische
Quick word of update to say I probably won't be updating on Wednesday because of real life. I might switch it to Saturday but no promises as this week is going to be a bit busy. ;) I'll keep you updated on tumblr.
Planning Vile-O-La's Demise
Effie had a gift for spotting trouble in a crowded room.
Of course, the fact that trouble usually looked like a pissed off Chaff considerably helped.
Her blue eyes darted to him as soon as he made his entrance, mostly because he was moving with an irritated sort of determination that contrasted a lot with the merry mood of the party. It was a classy party, too. The sort that took place outside the Training Center, at a very pricey hotel, with waiters in uniforms carrying flutes of champagne all around them and sponsors dressed to the nine. Not the sort of party you could discreetly storm in.
At least, she mused, following his progress from under her heavy fake feather eyelashes, he was dressed properly. Suits weren't exactly Chaff's best look but anything less would have been out of place that night. She wondered if Viola had been forced to threaten him into one and felt a moment of glee at the thought of her rival being exasperated.
Viola had yet to make her entrance.
Not that Effie was watching for her. Except, she was.
She automatically smoothed the lower part of her dress even as she nodded at whatever Seneca was telling her, never losing sight of Chaff. Her dress was perfect. It was short, with see-through long sleeves that contrasted nicely with the hemline, and it was patched in geometric shapes of blue and gold with the occasional see-through pattern. It came with a matching set of huge earrings that she wasn't actually fond of but the designer had insisted on and, since she was mostly wearing that dress in exchange for a good amount of money, she had relented. She did love the dress, it was exquisite, and the earrings weren't that bad.
Haymitch certainly hadn't seemed to think the dress was bad. He hadn't called her ugly once – which was as good as a compliment in his books – and she had caught him ogling her backside and her legs. Of course, she had also lost him to the crowd almost as soon as they had gotten in. He had been waylaid by another victor and she had been determined to mingle. They didn't have any tribute left to get sponsors for but it was never too early to make connections for the following year – or so she told herself because the only alternative was giving up entirely and she wasn't ready for that.
She was so busy watching Chaff without looking like she was watching him that she almost missed Viola's entrance.
Unfortunately, she looked quite stunning herself in a short black dress with bright colorful patterns that contrasted nicely with her dark skin.
Effie gritted her teeth.
She hated when Viola looked good, all the more so when the woman had been so bent on thrashing her in the press lately. They were always playing that game, naturally, but Viola had been a little too vicious recently and Effie was eager to pay her back in kind. She was just waiting for the right moment to let slip who her last lover was – affairs with married men was never good for one's reputation, even if it wouldn't have been Viola's first offence of the kind.
She had lost track of Chaff.
With a small tinge of panic, she quickly and quietly excused herself from the group she was with. Seneca waved her off, absorbed as he was by his tale, and she slipped away, trying not to look in a hurry as she frantically glanced around. She nodded back when people greeted her, smiled when appropriate, but only felt the anxiety melt away when she finally spotted her victor and his friend brooding in a corner.
They didn't look quite drunk yet, so not all hope was lost.
She really wasn't in any mood to fetch them from the Peacekeepers station that night and she wasn't in any mood to fix collateral damages either. She might be a PR queen but spinning Haymitch's and Chaff's antics into a playful story was becoming tedious.
She exchanged her empty flute for a new one as she made her way closer, walking around the room so she would creep on them from behind. It was always a good way to evaluate their moods and what sort of mischief they were susceptible to get into.
Haymitch, it seemed, was a little into his drink. Buzzed, probably. Not quite surprising given the fact that she had hardly seen him without a glass glued to his hand all day. But he wasn't into one of his ghastly moods, she even heard his familiar chuckles.
Chaff, on the other hand, looked determined to get drunk quick and had a thunderous expression on his face.
"Seriously…" Eleven's victor growled. "I'm gonna kill her. Just snap her neck. Be done with this shit. Won't stop me from sleeping like a baby at night, let me tell you…"
"She's allergic to fish, you know." Haymitch snorted, clearly finding the conversation highly entertaining. "You could always slip some on her plate…"
Effie's eyes widened slightly. They had done a lot of things over the years – from breaking in a Gamemaker's house to various drunken public misbehavior – but murder? Was it possible they were drunker than she thought? Oh, who was she kidding? Everything was possible with those two.
"What, in hell, are the two of you plotting now?" she hissed.
She was gratified when they both startled. Not everyone could creep up on victors and frighten them. Not everyone would have dared either because it might seem like a good joke but she knew better than anyone that a startled Haymitch was a dangerous Haymitch. It was probably a good thing he wasn't armed at the moment.
He glared at her but she never stopped smiling, never stopped looking like the playful cheery slightly dumb debutante that was her public personality. If she looked angry or alarmed, people would think there was a story there. And the last thing they needed when the two of them were planning to kill someone was for someone to take an interest.
"Eavesdropping much?" Chaff snarled. "Can't any of you stupid women mind your own bloody business?"
The smile tightened on her lips. It was hard to keep it up, all the more so when looking at Chaff.
It wasn't always so but there were moments she was certain she loathed him just as much as he hated her.
He always encouraged Haymitch to drink even when she managed to get him to slow down. He always nudged her victor toward more mischief even though Haymitch had calmed down a little with the antics lately. He always encouraged him to try and pick up women at parties even if, as far as she knew, neither she nor Haymitch was really sleeping around when they were both in the city… When the Games weren't on… It was fair game, she wasn't about to live celibate all year long, the affair came with no strings, but when the Games were on and Haymitch was in the Capitol… Lately…
More than that, Chaff disapproved of her, hated her.
"Why, Chaff… Charming as usual I see." she deadpanned. "And to what do we owe this foul mood of yours?"
"He's had a bad day." Haymitch said in a warning tone. The look that came with it clearly told her she had better make herself scarce but she pretended not to understand.
"Bad enough to plan a murder?" She lowered her voice, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. "Because, let me tell you, you are not getting my victor mixed up in that."
They would get caught.
At worst, they would be executed.
At best, they would lose their tongues.
And Effie liked Haymitch's tongue right where it was.
Chaff's sneer was ugly. "Wouldn't dream of getting your victor mixed up in anything, love." The sarcasm was strong, as was his stress on the possessive pronoun. Effie shot daggers at him with her eyes but fought to keep the smile on her face. "Ain't like he's up for any fun lately, anyway. You've got him on a tight leash…"
"Fuck off." Haymitch spat. "Ain't on anyone's leash." He shot his best friend a glare and down his flute of champagne like he would one of his glasses of whiskey. "You ain't angry at me so just fuck off."
To his credit, Chaff looked a little sorry. He waved his stump in the air. "You're right, buddy. That was a cheap shot."
"Cheap and stupid." Haymitch muttered, stealing the full flute from her fingers and handing her the empty one.
She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head a little, and pursed her lips, forgetting the smile. "Do you mistake me for a waitress?"
The way his lips twitched once told her he wouldn't quite mind mistaking her for a waitress and she made a mental note to get one of those black and white uniforms secreted away for later use. He always complained when she tried to spice up sex but, for all his complains, he rarely shot her down when she came up with role-playing scenarios. If he wanted to corner a waitress, he would get a sexy waitress to corner in the penthouse.
It had been a while since they had done it on the dining-room table.
She did like it when he pinned her down on it…
"Careful, sweetheart…" he mocked. "You're looking a little hot here."
Chaff snorted and Effie – who may or may not have lost herself in her little fantasy – directed her glare back at him. "I always look hot. Now… Do you care to tell me who you are planning to kill? It better not be me."
But it couldn't be.
Mostly because she had done nothing to cross Eleven's victor that day and then because she was not allergic to fish – although how Haymitch could know someone's food restrictions that well was beyond her. He wasn't one to pay attention to that sort of things usually. She didn't think he was even aware she had a mild allergy to peanuts, he probably thought she just didn't like it.
"Vile-o-la." Chaff muttered, slouching a little in defeat. "Seems like it's the only way I can get rid of her… It's been six fucking years. What's a guy to do to get a new escort?"
"Not murder your current one." she remarked flatly.
"Don't know…" Haymitch shrugged. "That's how I got you. Went to Torello and threatened to push Summercket down the stairs… Next thing I knew, I got you and Chaff got saddled with her."
It probably meant something that the three of them – who all had their differences – hated Viola Summercket with a passion.
"The difference being that Viola never managed to get you under control and they actually wanted to find someone you could work with because you were becoming a pain in their side." Effie commented. "Eleven has Seeder to handle business when Chaff is acting up, so replacing Viola is not quite an active priority when escorts from Six and Three are planning on retiring soon."
Chaff perked up. "You're sure? Any chance Summercket's getting a promotion?"
She shook her head. "None. They need someone willing to get a little more invested in the job in Six because of… reasons." The reasons being that Six's victors were both addicts who were often more difficult to manage than Haymitch on a binge. "I actually expect them to put in a request for me…"
"What?" Haymitch was frowning. His fingers tightened around the glass in anger.
She dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "Finnick requests me every year. Head Gamemaker Torello won't let me go. You know that." She mimed quotation marks with her fingers. "I am much more useful in Twelve." She couldn't help a pout. "I am doing too good a job with you." Haymitch didn't seem to know if her little speech angered him or relieved him and she didn't give him time to decide. "Anyway. Six is not a possibility for Viola. Seneca told me they are looking at some young high profile hot fashion influencer who has some experience with management. They will offer her the position and, if she takes it, they will announce it during this year's Tour. She would be crazy to refuse, it would be too good for her career and, generally speaking, you do not refuse to become an escort, which means Six is a done deal."
"And Three?" Chaff insisted, not sounding very hopeful.
"Three is more tricky." she admitted with a hum, forgetting for a second that she disliked her interlocutor. This was her real passion. Figuring out the tricks of society and using them at her advantage. To play the Capitol game – and play it well – you needed to know everything and work out the rest, to accurately predict who would be doing what. "They won't put a new escort in that District. Three might not be a Career District, per se, but it is as close to one as it can be. This calls for experience. Besides, it is Beetee's turn to mentor next year and he won't work well with a young immature girl so… In my opinion – which is only worth as much as you put into it – they will promote Adelia from Four. Mags is still not back to mentoring and Stella never liked her, Finnick does what he can, of course, but Four's senior mentor being hostile to their escort is not helping. Nevertheless, Adelia has been around for four years, she is due for a promotion and she is pleasant enough that Three won't have a problem working with her. Gloria will be a tough act to follow, though. Beetee is fond of her from what I gathered. Genuinely, I mean, not in the way Brutus is fond of Valeria, if you catch my drift."
"That leaves a spot in Four." Haymitch wrinkled his nose. "Now, you tell that boy…"
"That boy will request me like he does every year and he will be denied like he is every year." Effie cut him off. "Nevertheless, I can tell you that he won't request Viola and certainly won't accept her transfer without a fuss."
"And what Finnick Odair wants, Finnick Odair gets." Chaff mutters bitterly if a little guiltily. It wasn't Finnick's fault if he was the darling of the Capitol and both men loved the boy too much to be resentful of privileges which price they knew. "Except you, apparently."
She tried not to be too bitter about it.
Truth be told, she liked Haymitch – sometimes, she thought she liked Haymitch much more than was clever or safe – she considered him one of her friends despite everything, one of her best friends even, but it rattled that she knew a promotion was off the table. Oh, she kept repeating to whoever wished to hear that certainly she would get a better District soon but, in practice, she had been told in veiled but clear terms that she was simply too good at keeping Haymitch in line. No other escort had managed him that well or that long before. They couldn't spare her because Haymitch, left to his own devices, was a loose cannon.
"In short." she continued, ignoring that last comment. "There is no hope of Viola getting promoted. I can be wrong, of course. Perhaps they won't move Adelia to Three and there will be an open spot there Viola might fill."
Haymitch snorted into his flute of champagne. "When's the last time you got something like that wrong?"
There was a compliment in there and Effie flashed him a grin.
Not a lot of people credited her with a brain but Haymitch… It had been a long time since Haymitch had called her dumb or had treated her as if she was less smart than he was. It was part of what she liked about him. He treated her as an equal intellectually instead of behaving as if she was little more than a doll on a shelf or a decorative plant.
"So we're back to murdering her, then." Chaff deadpanned, not quite serious but not quite joking either. "Maybe I can just trip her… Ain't likely to kill her but she might be easier to manage with a sprain…"
"Unlikely." Effie declared. "I once saw her do an entire fashion show with a twisted ankle." She waited a beat and then admitted in a very low voice. "You are not the first one to try and trip her down the stairs."
Chaff's laughter boomed out as if it took him quite by surprise. A few heads turned at the joyful bark but most people didn't care about what two victors from outside Districts were up to.
"You're a menace." Haymitch muttered, ducking his head and speaking low enough that it didn't carry to Chaff's ears. His breath rolled against her neck. "I mean… At least you didn't set her dress on fire."
"That…" she hissed. "… was an accident."
One, she deeply deeply regretted. She should have controlled herself better. But Finnick had goaded her and the weather had been so awfully hot it had made her crazy and… Truly, it had been a week already, couldn't they move on to better things?
Haymitch didn't bother answering but his lips twitched into a smirk and his free hand somehow landed at the small of her back. His palm was warm over the thin fabric of her dress and it made her think perhaps nobody would notice if they retired early and…
"So, there's nothing to do then…" Chaff sighed.
"Well…" She pursed her lips, toying with Haymitch's empty flute. She traced the rim of the glass with a distracted finger. Both men looked fascinated for some reason but she let that slide. "I do have one tiny bit of gossip that might get her off your back…"
Haymitch didn't look surprise.
Chaff didn't either. If anything he looked interested. "What do you want for it?"
She handed Haymitch his empty flute back with a smile and a bat of her fake eyelashes. "Can you get me another one?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Ain't your servant."
"Please." she breathed out in that tone.
His eyes narrowed further and he glanced at Chaff, clearly steeling himself for another gibe, but Eleven's victor probably knew what she was about and remained silent.
Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Fine. But then we're out of here, alright? I've done enough mingling for the night."
"Of course." she promised. There was a twinkle in his eyes and she knew what he was really asking for. She was only too happy to cave.
She watched him leave in search of a waiter before turning back to Chaff who was watching her with a knowing look on his face.
"Name your price." Eleven's victor challenged.
"Stop encouraging him to drink all the time." she demanded, not bothering to keep up the tone. She kept smiling though. Masks were important.
"I ain't." he denied, shaking his head. "I warned him it was getting out of control a few years ago. It's his way of coping. You can't judge."
"That is an excuse." she retorted. "And you are enabling him. You are always offering him alcohol, always goading him into ridiculous stunts…" She pursed her lips, took a deep breath… "I am aware he has a part of responsibility in them, he can be…" He could be an idiot. "But it is not judging to worry about your friend and not feed his addiction."
Chaff clearly didn't agree with her but he had listened to her request and that was the best she would get, she was aware of that.
"He needs it." he argued. "Ain't saying it's healthy, just saying it's the only way he can stay sane."
She didn't dare ask if that was why he was such a womanizer. Did he need sex like Haymitch needed alcohol? To cope?
"I am not telling you to lecture him, simply to go easy on the offers of friendly drinks." she insisted. "Do we have a deal or not?"
Chaff stared at her a while longer and then sighed, lowering his eyes and burying his hands in his pockets. "Look, love… I don't like you much but I know you care about him… The thing is… You can't save him from his demons. Not unless he wants to face them."
That was sensible advice probably.
She had never really been good at listening to sensible advice.
She would never have accepted to remain Twelve's escort otherwise.
"Deal or no deal?" she snapped.
"Deal." he finally accepted.
She gave him the name of Viola's lover and the name of the hotel they met at, recommending him to let it slip during their next interview with Caesar.
It was even better than if she had planted the story herself. Coming from Viola's victor, it would add a credibility that would lack if she were the one to release the story. After all, their feud was legendary and it would have made her look petty.
She left Chaff to his own devices after that and sneaked through the crowd until she found Haymitch leaning against a pillar, his hands in his pockets.
"Figured you didn't really want champagne." he mocked when she looped her arms around his elbow.
She grinned. "How clever of you."
"Do I wanna know what you ask him?" he snorted.
"Probably not." she granted, steering him toward the exit. "You definitely want to know what I am planning to do to you tonight, though…"
And, just like that, Viola was forgotten.