It's kinda wild to me that I went from almost exclusively posting one-shots to a whole 3 fic series with a total of 70+ chapters and 250k total words- and it's actually serious and not on crack like by singular other multichap. Kind of a big jump, am I right?
I'm like obsessed with it now. I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to post next, but I'm definitely going to do Another Big Project, and soon.
Katniss
I make a point of being in the hangar when Gale returns to District Thirteen. I'm not the only one with that idea- hordes of people are lined up on the walkways, eager to see loved ones return safely or perhaps just curious because nothing truly interesting ever seems to happen here.
Despite the crowd, I am distinctly by myself. Peeta declined to skip class for this endeavor- it doesn't help he's never been a fan of Gale, despite his earlier promise to rally around him- and Storm claimed to have better things to do. I'm not sure I believe that- are there any other things for her to do? She still doesn't go to school- but maybe it's better for me to do this alone. Only time will tell.
I crane my neck, watching for the hovercrafts to come in. I'm not sure exactly what to expect, but I'm guessing it'll be a bigger affair than hauling us in from the arena. It wasn't just Gale who went to District Seven: it was an army. Or at least, part of an army.
The spot I chose doesn't offer a great viewpoint- I still don't like crowds, so I place myself towards the back- but there's no missing the soldiers' return. The massive hangar door grates open, but my chance to view real sky and the outside world is almost completely obstructed by the biggest craft I've seen so far. It lurches toward its docking station, kind of like if a tortoise was used as a method of transportation that could also fly, flanked by half a dozen comparatively-tiny ships. A cargo hold and the weapons of war. They're back.
People scurry out to meet the ships as soon as they're docked- professionals, the ones who know what they're doing. Ropes and chains are tossed about; people are yelling. My limited view makes this part boring and frustrating more than anything else. It doesn't matter, though. I'm only here for one thing, and I'll know it when I see it.
Eventually, I do see it. See him. Gale. He steps off the cargo ship with a number of other soldiers, although he's the only one still dressed in armor. He gives a few orders- I certainly can't tell what he's saying- and the soldiers disperse into the crowd, the friends and family that have been waiting for them. Gale stays on the path, though. He must think no one here is waiting for him- or that we're all waiting for him, the Mockingjay, back to its nest.
I keep my eye on him until he's close, then duck under the chain that separates us. He doesn't look surprised to see me- actually, he doesn't seem to react at all, just keeps walking. Irritation flashes through me, but I lengthen my stride to keep up with his power walk. "You made it back."
"I'm surprised you noticed."
I'm surprised by the harshness of his tone, but I'm not interested in a fight right now. I don't want to argue. I want answers. "Of course I noticed. I worried about you."
Not nearly as much as I worried about Prim, but Gale doesn't have to know that.
"Don't worry, Katniss. I'm fine."
"What was it like in District Seven?" I press. The scripted or terribly improvised propaganda from last night didn't tell me near enough. I want to know the real story, the truth only Gale can give.
"It was war. I don't want to talk about it," Gale grumbles, stalking away from me.
I raise one eyebrow, disbelievingly. Gale has always wanted to talk about war. Taking the fight to the Capitol, earning freedom for the districts…it's all he's ever wanted.
Regardless, he's not getting rid of me that easily. I hustle after him, not caring if I look desperate. In some ways, I am. "Well, you won, didn't you?"
"Yes," he says. No point in avoiding that detail, although I don't know why he's avoiding the rest of them. He came to me before he left, didn't he? I'd assumed that meant he still cared to some degree. Maybe I was wrong.
"And? Is that it, Gale?"
He looks at me, at least. But not in a good way. I don't know what I wanted, exactly, but I know it wasn't narrowed eyes that I'm suddenly realizing are the exact color of a blade. "No, it's not it. But I can't talk right now- I have to get to Headquarters."
I turn away. In this moment, he looks too much like me. "Well, you could have just told me that," I mutter, but Gale- stuffy, miserable Mockingjay Gale- is already gone.
§
I'm in the common room again. It's a little more pleasant than the small gray room I share with Storm- although, this room really isn't much bigger or more colorful. When you consider that, I guess, I don't really know why I'm here.
The Games are on. I mean, they're always on. It's just a question of whether I'm watching them or not. Right now, I am, but so far it's been almost entirely disappointing. I haven't seem Prim at all- the only thing they're showing is the rebel pack, with a few glimpses of Griff and Davina, the only group of two that's left.
Kinzie and Aspen are climbing trees. Instantly I flash back to my time in the arena, to Turquoise scrabbling up a pine every time she got bored, but I quickly realize this is different. They're not climbing just for fun or even for the sake of competition: they're looking for food.
"I don't see anything, guys!" Kinzie calls. She's nearly at the top of the tree; every branch sways beneath her weight but she seems perfectly calm. She's from District Eleven, the orchard district. Weaving through the branches must be second nature to her.
"Keep looking, Kinz!" Lorcan calls from the forest floor. He's the only boy left in the pack, and he's probably only survived this far because of his rebel ties. It takes more than luck to last in there. "There has to be a nest somewhere!"
"I'm telling you, there does not!" Kinzie calls back, her voice high-pitched with frustration. "Mockingjays don't nest in the winter!"
Ah, so that's what they're going for. I've spent years living off the woods and therefore have snatched plenty of eggs from bird's nests, but I never would have gone for a mockingjay. Their eggs are too small to be worth eating, but I suppose, desperate times call for desperate measures…
"What else can we do, though?" Jemma asks huffily. She's the fourth and final member of the team, the girl from District Eight. She's only fifteen, but she refuses to let that hold her back. "We can't hunt the actual birds with shovels! We need to find a nest!"
Is that how they survived before- hunting mockingjays? Considering how small the birds are, that's probably not the best strategy, but they are the only prey animal I've seen in the arena. Besides the fish in the pond, which the rebel pack must not know about. That's good news for Prim, then. If no one else has real access to food, maybe they won't have to take Aspen and Co. out after all.
Of course, that still leaves the entire Career pack…but I'll deal with one thing at a time, thanks.
"If anyone could do it, it's you, Jemma!" Aspen calls from up in the tree. I wonder if she's just joking around or if there's a hint of "no bitchin' in my kitchen" in her tone. I kind of hope there is. If this pack would tear itself apart, it would save Prim and Rye a lot of trouble.
"Hey! A parachute!" Kinzie cries. From her lookout position, of course she sees it first. Both her and Aspen scramble to get down, while Jemma and Lorcan line up to catch the sponsor's gift.
It's Lorcan who gets it- he has what one might consider "freakishly-long" arms, giving him a distinct advantage. He waits for Kinzie and Aspen to open the capsule, and they all ooh and ahh at the food inside. It doesn't seem like much, just some bread, roasted fish, and cranberries, but when you're starving, you become notoriously easy to please.
"Jo has come through yet again," says Aspen, looking to the sky. Jo must be her mentor. "…maybe it's a sign to quit climbing trees. Let's eat!"
They divvy up the food and start chowing down- they don't save any of it for later. It seems odd to me that they're rationing at all, but I guess their logic must be that they need to keep their strength up.
While they're eating, the camera switches back to Davina and Griff. I groan. I don't care about Davina and Griff. They're not Prim or a threat to Prim, so I have no interest in their state of affairs. Neither does anyone else, apparently. Davina and Griff have had a total of zero sponsors. Currently they're chewing on pine bark and looking miserable.
Storm bursts into the room and barks, "Change the channel!"
Nothing she does can surprise me anymore. But that doesn't change the fact that there's only one channel. "This is the only channel there is!"
"Ugh, you're so stupid!" She marches across the room to do it herself. I still think she's delusional- there are no buttons with which to change the channel- but she taps the screen aggressively with her finger and options pop up.
"What are you trying to watch?!" I ask, flashing back to the hat show. "Hey! Our sisters are on!"
"Whoops." She taps something and Maris and Prim fade away. They're replaced by Turquoise, fully armored like she's going off to war. She even has a spear in her hand.
"We must continue to move forward after our victory in District Seven," she declares. "There's no time to rest on our laurels. We cannot rest until the Capitol is brought to its knees, and the districts know freedom once again!"
"Okay, and…?" I trail off. Coin told us there were going to be speeches. This is earlier than I expected any of it to happen, but it's still not big news. Turquoise must just have prepared hers early. "Who cares, Storm?"
She stifles a giggle and then points at the screen. "Look- she's the Mockingjay now! Gale got fired!"
I gape, but she's right. Turquoise's black armor is a feminized version of what Gale used to wear. There's a Mockingjay patch on one shoulder, and a set of wings on the other. She's every inch the leader, a rebel girl who's arrived to save us all. I'm bowled over at bizarre, wild-child Turquoise cleaning up into the perfect Mockingjay.
Equally surprising is Storm being on a first name basis with Gale, but I guess I've heard stranger things. My life itself has been a stranger thing lately.
"Fired?" I repeat. "I didn't even know they could fire the Mockingjay!"
Storm shrugs. She's still wearing that "something bad happened to you" smirk. "Well, he was pretty bad at it."
"…he was," I eventually concede, although I feel bad for admitting it. Even though Gale and I are on rockier ground than ever, I'll always feel like I have to defend him. "It's a hard job, though. And who's to say Turquoise will be any better?"
"She's already doing better," says Storm.
I hate agreeing with Storm; I think it does bad things to her ego. But the more I watch Turquoise give her passionate speech, the more I have to admit she's right. Her eyes are lit up, and I can just see the people of Panem rallying around her, taking up the fight because of her words. She has that effect on people. Gale…does not. But I guess there was a time he had that effect on me.
Gale became the Mockingjay because of his connection to Madge. Turquoise got it- presumably- for the numerous ways she's served the rebel cause. Maybe it should have been merit-based this whole time.
In the end, I just try to move on. "Maybe she'll be what turns the tide."
Storm's eyes are glittering. Whether it's from pride, malice, or something else entirely, I cannot tell. Turquoise bows to the camera and is replaced by District Thirteen's seal- a couple gears and what looks like a hazard symbol. Tasteful. "Maybe she will."
This has to be the shortest chapter yet, but it DOES include my favorite thing, which is still dunking on Gale Hawthorne. Up next- a Prim chapter!