where i'm from >> baines

[Deleted]

► ► ►

There's a second, as Harriet sips her hot chocolate, that her heart pangs for her brother.

Ratmas had become that of a guilty pleasure for a woman who lives to work. She'd never take the festivities outside of her own chambers, but in the flashing of string lights and the welcoming warmth of some candles she lets herself enjoy it. Holidays aren't a thing in her life; for the longest, she didn't see the point of them. 

But there's one thing she's never been able to provide for herself: a family. At one point, Easton was all she had, her baby brother who never took the world seriously. Infuriatingly so, but when her guard is down he always seems to sneak back into the depths of her mind. She misses him, of course. When he deserted, Harriet knew he was dead in a sense. 

Never to be seen again, but as she takes another sip, she lets herself reminisce with open arms. Somehow, in some reality, the world could have been ready for them. It's dangerous to get caught up in the thought, but she always thought Panem could be saved. 

She's learned since then - you can't save the world. 

You can't even save one person. 

Merry Ratmas she thinks to herself as she stands, knees and back popping as she does. 

( threads open if any cryowakers want to interrupt harriet's peace ! )

 

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

s c a r .

"like a dream
about to
bloom"

Missons have been at a standstill for a couple of weeks now, all the ice and snow made it difficult to get the suits moving properly and things have been quiet as of late anyway. Scarlet used the opportunity that the time off gave him to figure out what to get everyone for Christmas.

Some people were an easy choice, a brand new go bag of tools for Storm, small enough to fit in her bag but big enough to still be useful. Then Scar had wrapped the same yearly offering he and his father had been giving the commander for years, a bottle of barrel-aged whisky. For his dad, he spent hours building a small headlamp for his walk home every day. It'd taken most of his free time but Scar was satisfied with it.

Then for Harry, well that one was easy. He gives her a puzzle every year, always with too many pieces and as abstract as he can find, then the two of them try to complete it in a single night. It's stupid, but it's one of his favourite traditions.

He approaches the rec area, the box tucked under right arm. She can be a hard woman to find as she's always on the go, she has to be. There's no one else who looks after their unit as hard as she does and a lot of Scarlet's care tactics come directly from her. His father and himself have been part of this operation for years and she's been there through most of his developmental years.

He passes through the empty rec room and takes the stairs to leadership's quarters, two at a time. Scarlet's gait is recognizable, each step landing heavy as he leaps up them.

Her door is slightly open so he knocks a little and then pushes it open further when he hears an answer.

"Hey," he says and waves from the doorframe, "You ready for this?" He nods don towards the puzzle box. On the side, there's a picture of a densely wooded forest, with little figures walking amongst the trees. It's got two thousand pieces and is mostly green.

But then he notices the sad turn of her mouth and the way she's not quite looking at him.

"Harry?" he asks, empathy tinging his bright tone with worry, "You okay?"