will to life {victors - harbinger's party}

[rook]

patricia valfierno

I can't stomach Snow's mansion. Like everything in the Capitol, it's too much to take in. The deep, rich colors of the furniture, the thousand-diamond-piece ornamants, the gold-leaf wallpapers. I've been in and out of the Capitol enough times to see the extent of it's extravagance, but Snow's mansion is on a whole new level. The President of life as we know it - It's apt that he has the most expensive and luxurious house of all. It's mad to think that one person lives in a place so big, but the venue lends to itself. Party after party, year after year, and this is one of many.

What's weird is that I've gotten used to it. I never thought I would, but after being forced to come to Katelyn's Victory Party two years ago despite my unstable mental health and overwhelming anxiety, it became easier. Kirito's was a little easier. I didn't touch a drop of alcohol during either, and the thought of any food made my stomach leap. I managed to get through them by either hiding away in a corner somewhere or hanging close to Leon.

It's no secret that I'm not liked by many of the other Victors. That's okay, I don't like many of them either. Most are liars - Either lying to others to keep a false persona, or lying to themselves. I may be a little hard to digest, but at least my words, whilst sharp, are true.

Leon gets that. He's known that since before I was a Victor, back when I was that foolish, brash kid in the Training Center, hoping he'd do me a favor so that my Personal Training Session would be one last "Fuck you" to the Capitol. That all came crashing down on my naive little head. At least he was there for me, at least Leon understood that I was against the system, and he was willing to give me what I wanted in my dying days. It would have all been so perfect if I had just died. No, not perfect. Picturesque. I may not be much of an artist, but at least I'm not dead. That makes me think of Pearl, so I decide that tonight I'm going to get some alcohol.

This isn't my natural environment, but I'm more comfortable here now than I used to be. I know that people don't want my neck anymore - There are newer, more interesting Victors for people to play with than me. I've been told on many occasions that I'm no fun, but I don't give a flying fuck about the opinions of any cotton-candy-haired Capitolites. They can have their fun with the District Eleven Trio, they're far more exciting than a brash redhead from Five.

Harbinger Rhodes. He's somewhat different to Katelyn and Kirito, I'll give him that. For one, he's an absolute behemoth - Built like a two-ton tank and primed like one too. He was brutal, putting on a Career-like performance in the outland hills Arena of the Seventy-First Hunger Games. I hope he's holding up okay. The tall silent types are usually the ones to be most fragile, despite looking and acting like the complete opposite.

I wander over to the drinks section, bypassing anything bubbly in search of something with more clout. I grab a vial of whiskey and pour myself a tumbler of rich brown liquor.

They make us dress up for this shit. The Capitol press are always trying to cram me into a dress, and they've succeeded on very few occasions. My Games interview, Victor presentation, and these dumb-ass parties are the only occasions where I've been plastered in make-up and had my hair styled like someone who isn't me. My dress tonight is blue and floral, it reminds me so very much of Lethe, the thought of which makes me take a swig of my drink. Ripred, I can't even remember the last time I got drunk. Has it even been this side of my Games? I don't think it has. What a sad thought.

I'm joined by a slim figure at the drinks table. I rest one hand on the table and hunch in a very unladylike pose in my ridiculous dress, eyeing up Kirito Miristioma. District 11's second-of-three Victors has obviously escaped the copious amount of photo opportunities he's been forced to partake in. Everyone wants a shot of the trio. These sort of things only happen once a century, they tell me. Three Victors from the same District in three consecutive years. I smile. District Eleven, no less. I guess it's the little victories in life that keep us going, and I can't help but feel a little bit happy for Eleven. The winters are harsh in those lower Districts, and less people will die this year because of their Victors.

I raise my hands, still holding my drink in my right.
"You caught me," I smirk, before taking a swig, "Don't fucking tell my sister."

[Arrows]

kirito

victor of the 70th hunger games

Empty words filled Kirito's false ears as Finter continued to exclaim the importance of the party the new famed trio were about to attend, as if none of them already knew this. White greeted Kirito's knuckles as his hands stayed firmly clenched together. Ever since Harbinger had been announced victor Kirito and surely Katelyn could feel the tension being supplied around them. Through all the cameras and all the interviewers Kirito knew Snow was watching them while vilely cursing their existence. However over the past few days Kirito had learned to enjoy being a pain in the old devil's side if it meant another life had been spared and that his district could go on using the extra servings through the rough winter. No matter how much President Snow contested District Eleven's success Kirito knew it was a good thing, both for Harbinger and for those back home. 

A slight bump stirred Kirito from his darker thoughts as his eyes trailed over towards Harbinger. Ever since his victory both Kirito and Katelyn had been barely able to say a single word between all the cameras surrounding their band. Of course Kirito had over come the same struggles after his own victory mixed with an inhumane amount of morphine, but this year was ten times worst. With all the history being made shit and the best odds to ever live secondary shit there wasn't even enough room to breathe which only made Kirito worry more. Kirito was well aware of the discontent that swam within the pool of Harbinger's eyes at the loss of so much life. Especially at the loss of Annora's life in which Harbinger demanded Katelyn and Kirito save no matter what the cost. If only he knew how much they had tried to keep his wish, but then again Kirito had made it clear he would never give up on Harbinger and in truth he never did. 

The pounding of drums reached the car just as they turned the corner approaching no other than President Snow's mansion. Bitter memories accompanied the lights and music that had now engulfed the nation's vile head's home. Just one year ago Kirito stood within the spot light burning brightly beside Katelyn as his mind swam with the callings of the dead. Even now Kirito could still feel the ghostly chill of those he had bidden to die breathing heavily upon his neck. Then again he knew the phantoms that hung tightly upon Harbinger's soul must surely be much more torturous than his own. Yet thankfully before the car came to a full stop he was able to get a snip-it of advice out to Harbinger. 

"Listen its going to be crazy in there. Just do your best to keep your head low, if that is even possible at this point. If things get over whelming find any victor we all are pretty good at being able to find ways to avoid the cameras." 

With that Kirito felt the car fully break and he could hear the din of the anxious crowd climaxing into a total roar. Through the screams of the self proclaimed fans Kirito could hear an announcer off in the distant declaring the arrival of the honored guest and his two mentors. If Kirito had even slightly dreamed of a chance to get Harbinger away from most of the fame crazed fans it was long gone. In fact Kirito was now certain that it would be at least a good hour before any of them could find away to slink off into the shadows. 

Uproar exploded from the surrounding sea of Capitolites as the three stepped forth from their ride and were engulfed by the frenzy of flashing lights. Hands dove out from every direction just to touch Harbinger and any of the historical trio and Kirito couldn't help but feel his anxiety peaking just as it had the last time he walked down this long yard. Questions for both Katelyn and himself frequently bubbled up between the card and the front door. All the while Harbinger was being barraged with his own sort of troubles. Just as Kirito had figured about an hour of pictures and demanding Capitolites showered the three in flashing lights and recording cameras. Thankfully Kirito was able to find an escape route from all the overwhelming fans as he used the excuse of needing to locate Mace in order to discuss some relatively important business. As for Katelyn and Harbinger he had long since become separated from the two and only prayed that Harbinger was handling all the chaos as well as he could. 

Colors shifted and spun in all directions as Kirito did his best to navigate through the large mansion. Every now and then he found himself cornered by a ground of victor hungry Capitolites and was forced to stop for several minutes while taking pictures or answering questions. This utterly useless cycle continued on for approximately another hour as Kirito failed to find anyone he actually recognized. Apparently Mace had yet to arrive along with Leon or Opal. As for his fellow District victors it was all but hopeless trying to find them within the wriggling storm of pompous Capitolites. In the end Kirito decided that if he couldn't find anyone than he might as well get a drink to help him cope with the overwhelming amount of excitement that was coursing through the room like the blood in his body. 

As Kirito eventually found his way to the alcoholic table he finally found a face that was quite recognizable to him. Although it had been quite awhile since their last encounter Kirito hadn't been turned away from Patricia Valifierno as some of the other victors supposedly were. From what Kirito had learned from their one night in District Five together on his tour was that she was about as honest as they came, and quite frankly Kirito preferred truth over the frequent lies surrounding the city they now stood in. So pushing a partial smile to his face he poured himself a bit of some oddly blue colored liquid and turned toward the red haired Victor of the Sixty Eighth Hunger Games. 

Naturally Kirito could see Patricia was quite her normal self as she sarcastically proclaimed that he had caught her in the act of drinking just as she downed another swig of her drink. Although Kirito was not very accustomed to the whole idea of drinking alcohol yet he still managed to handle it in situations such as this so he raised his own glass in return with a partial laugh.

"I won't tell your sister as long as you don't tell my brother." Kirito replied as he too allowed the sharp and partially sweet liquid burn down his throat in a single gulp. "But then again I don't really care who sees me drinking here. With all these idiots around it is impossible not to."

As Kirito's voice once again settled and another flush of burning sweet liquid dove down his throat he figured he should at least reveal his condolences for Patricia's lost tributes. From what he had seen Patricia was always very close to her tributes and the fact was Kirito was the same. In the end though Patricia just like all the others except for Katelyn and himself had to carry the burden of taking both of their tributes home in coffins. It was a burden no human should ever have to carry upon their shoulders, especially one as dedicated as her.

So lowering his voice just slightly Kirito looked her in the eyes as he offered his acknowledgements for her loss. "I am sorry about Saxton and Tyler." Even though Kirito's words were simple and light he hoped they at least helped somewhat. For in the end Kirito was well aware that not everyone was from District Eleven and for the past three games they had all suffered for it. 

There is a Key to every gate and every exit,

yet every Key has its own cost.

table by anzie

[charade]

KATELYN PERSIMMON

The car was quiet save for their escort’s babbling, each of the three victors lost in their thoughts. And the ride was a welcome break from all of the Capitolites that wanted a piece of them. She longed to be back in eleven, where the compliments came from the heart, and the victory meant something important. Harbinger needed to be with his brothers, and with the earnest celebration that the district would hold. Three straight victories meant that the district would be in good shape for the next couple years; it would take some time for all of the supplies being sent to the district to run out. Not that any of the interviewers asked or cared about that. No, all they had wanted to know was what Katelyn had taught the two boys, whether any of the victors were seeing anyone special, and how they felt knowing that they had made history.

If she could have, she would have roared for them to leave, but there were just so many of them, and it was hard to be intimidating when she could barely walk in the heels. She shook the memory of the day’s earlier events away and looked at the other two victors in the car. Kirito seemed ill at ease, and Harbinger, well, she could guess what he was thinking about. Knowing that twenty-three died and he didn’t. That the girl he had initially wanted to come back had died days before the finale and was going home with them in a casket. Kirito at least, had been spared that burden because of the quell, but Katelyn knew it well; she still thought about Levi from time to time, and how she had come back to the district when he hadn’t; Thought about the Izar boy that had come to call on her at the victor’s village.

Music blaring a dull thud through the car let them know that they were getting close to the President’s mansion and a knot started to form in her stomach, knowing what Harbinger would be subjected to by fawning Capitolites. The spotlight would be ten times greater than it had been the previous year as well. She put a hand on both boys’ shoulders reassuringly as the car pulled to a stop. Kirito offered a word of advice to their new charge about avoiding cameras, and Katelyn nodded in agreement. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s gonna be rough. But just make it through this and we once we get on the train we can unwind and have a moment’s peace to really talk.” The chanting of the crowd was tangible as Finter exited the vehicle and got ready to open the doors; in the distance an announcer proclaimed the arrival of Panem’s newest victor, Harbinger Rhodes, alongside his mentors, the dashing Kirito Miristioma, victor of the seventieth quell games, and the stunning Katelyn Persimmon, victor of the sixty-ninth.

“That’s our cue, boys.” She said through gritted teeth.

Harbinger was made to exit first, walking slightly ahead as she and Kirito flanked either side of him protectively. The sheer number of camera’s clicking, voices screaming their names or questions and hands trying to touch them were unbearable, but Finter made sure they kept a decent pace until it was just impossible. Interviewers bugged her about her dress and her thoughts on Harbinger. Fans waved ridiculous little banners and to her horror she saw a small gaggle of girls wearing red bandanna’s that they could have only gotten from Tributes and Tokens. Poria Rain was probably making a killing on district eleven merchandise. Katelyn just prayed that Harbinger didn’t run into any people carrying replicas of his token. It was bad enough that she could see a couple people dressed in the outfit Beretta had made in the arena, leading avoxes done up like Kitty Keeni behind them on leashes.

She glanced at Harbinger, hoping that he was doing alright. Then the throng surged, and a fresh wave of people started to get in between them. In no time at all, the three victors had gotten separated, and it took a lot of Katelyn’s willpower to not to start shoving people out of the way. Eventually, she managed to get away by saying she had someone to meet, and let the rumor mill decide what she meant by that. Upon finding an empty seat at a table in the far back she sat down and crossed her legs, thankful that the other occupants of the table were already passed out from partying. Across the dance floor and above the tables of food was a balcony that several important figures stood on, watching the festivities. Snow was there of course, looking grouchier than ever because of the repeated wins, and by him were several gamemakers that she knew by face; though it appeared that one or two were missing.

There other victors were sure to be around somewhere if they had arrived, and if they hadn’t, they’d be there soon enough. It was quiet enough in her little corner for the moment, but if she started getting pestered again, she’d seek out any of the victors to escape it; and of course, there was always the chance that one of the others would find her in an attempt to escape something else. She’d keep her eyes and ears open for Harbinger and Kirito in the crowd as well, in case they needed rescuing. Katelyn shook her head and grabbed a quiche off of a passing tray to nibble on. The party couldn’t be over soon enough.

"When you’ve lost your way, when you have no words,
we are your strength, when you don’t have anymore. "

table coding (c) ghosty

[rook]

patricia valfierno

Ghosts swim around the hand-painted ceilings of Snow's famed mansion. Not just the deaths he's responsible for, but the ones we must also be accounted for. For me and Kirito, we both carry twenty-three Tributes on our backs. Snow might be the hand on the trigger, but we were the bullets in his gun. We didn't ask for the blood on our hands, but carrying the burden of those that were killed is the bargain we paid to survive. Everywhere I look, I see ridiculously dressed Capitolites glaring at me with such fascination, like I'm a legend, or a god. It reminds me that in their eyes, I am more than just a girl from the alleys of Five. To them, I am immortal. They'd be disgusted if they knew just how mortal I really am, but that's okay, because mortality is what has kept me alive for so long.

Kirito looks so much more tired than the last time we met. That was back on his Victory Tour, when he visited Five. Ripred, that was a clusterfuck. I distinctly remember him not being able to get a word in edgeways as Lethe and I argued over something-or-something. I feel bad, that visit must have been rough on him, and I barely got time to ask him how he was handling everything and if he needed anything from me. Looking back, I realise just how much my anger has blinded not just me, but pushed away other people too. It's like I'm fighting for the right thing, but not always in the right way. Kirito must thing me to be a wild thing, hot with anger and hatred. Yes, there's hate in me, lots of hate, but I don't want people to think that's all I am. Well, not people like Kirito anyway, who I have nothing against. The rest can go to hell.

"I won't tell your sister as long as you don't tell my brother." The District Eleven boy replies. Is he still a boy? I suppose he's had to grow up fast, like we all did, but he still looks and talks like teenager. It's hard for me to get my head around him, sort of like it was with Saffron at first. I know he's a lot smarter than he looks. A guy his size doesn't win the Hunger Games without a certain dosage of common sense mixed in with quick-thinking and instict. Thing is, I didn't evne know he had a brother. It dawns on me that I don't know much about Kirito at all, but then why would I? He's only been Victor for a year, and whenever I'm not in the Capitol, I neglect all the television and media I can.

There's certain things we have to watch, like Snow's announcements, the Games, and all the Games prep, but other than that it's all optional. Kirito hasn't really appeared in anything mandatory, and they didn't really talk about his family in anything I half-paid attention to. I guess Templesmith and Flickerman discussed it in Games commentary, but I usually blast music whilst watching - Drowning out their shit, baised opinions helps me to focus more on what's going on.

"But then again I don't really care who sees me drinking here. With all these idiots around it is impossible not to." He continues, and I smirk. He's not wrong there. This place is unbarable, and I probably would have started drinking a lot sooner in scenarios like this if I wasn't so ridden with nerves and anxiety. Used to be that the thought of ingesting anything made me want to be sick, but now it's more of a dull ache, almost a pressure on my bones. Alcohol will go down easier now I've ridden early Victorship nerves, I'm sure. Besides, what's the worst than can happen? I'm probably going to throw up when I get back to my train, and that will be that. Being sick isn't the end of the world.

His tone turns solemn, and I can almost predict what he's about to say:
"I am sorry about Saxton and Tyler." He lowers his head, and I try to smile it off, and fail.
They were good kids. Saxton did everything she could, but she placed her faith in the wrong people - Her alliance wasn't strong enough to overcome others, but I don't think there was anything more she could have done. She was just physically overwhelmed. Tyler did incredibly well, I didn't expect him to get as far as he did, and maybe if the wind had been blowing in a different direction that day, we'd be celebrating his victory instead. I don't blame myself for either other of their deaths. I did all I could, and so could they.

"Eh, it's fine. They're dead now, nothing we can do about it." I half-smile, "What's important is that they died with a little bit of hope and dignity."

It's the little victories, I have to keep reminding myself.

"How have you been? Obviously you're doing a better job of mentoring than I am, but y'know, how's life and stuff?" I struggle, not really one for smalltalk but doing the best I can. I swig at the whiskey and hope it will help loosen me up.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

a note from the desk of

Mace Emberstatt

of District Ten

when you never thought that it could ever get this tough,
that's when you feel my kind of love

His stylist had gotten Mace to the party in record time, but not before Mason had slimed the back of his silk shirt with his banana-flavored ice pop. Both Mace and his stylist had become accustomed to looking for the gifts of his children, but as it turned out, the littles were craftier than the adults. Mace didn't mind. Better to let the Capitol see and be reminded of his primary title - Father - than all the others that came after. That was a difficult thing on evenings like this one, where he was surrounded by the other victors, and high ranking officials, the President himself. He hated it as much as his friends, but still, he plastered a smile to his face.

If he scowled, he looked like Mace the Victor, and he wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Mace followed the passed hors d'oeuvres around the room, trailing after the miniature beef pasties. The route the server took led Mace across the room, until he crossed paths with people he knew. He bobbed his head at Patricia - still completely unsure what to make of her - before ruffling Kirito's hair. "That'll put hair on your chest for sure," he said, following the sharp scent in the air. He grinned - not the smile he was showing the cameras but an actual grin - at his youngest friend before stepping aside.

He dropped a kiss just past Katelyn's cheek. "Helluva dress. You ever seen anythin' like that in Eleven? Or this?" He plucked at the burgundy silk shirt he wore. The tugging had an odd effect on the fabric, especially since the back of his right arm was glued to his flesh by melted banana. He tried to straighten it for a moment and then realized that he cared not at all if it was off-kilter. While he fidgeted, he scanned the crowd. He'd lost track of the server (a temporary setback) but hadn't yet seen Saffron (a more pressing problem). His steel gaze wandered up and down until it landed on the newest victor.

Harbinger Rhodes.

He'd long ago given up the mantle of the tallest victor. Colgate O'Leary had solid inches on him. But Harbinger was bigger than Mace would ever be, in height and breadth. Beyond that, he didn't know much about him, and he wasn't likely to learn anything substantive tonight. Not while so many fawners danced around him. A strange little twist took hold in his stomach. He wondered, for a moment, if that was what Julian had wanted him to be. And if he had been...

Mace swallowed around the pinch. "Suppose I'll go lookin' for Saffron. Y'all need anything?" He looked to Patricia first. "Promise I won't be near so polite as these servers. You want somethin', you holler."

ooc

being in a thread this large
is making me hit the :panic: button
repeatedly
feel free to godmode Mace fetching

[Arrows]

kirito

victor of the 70th hunger games

Kirito's continuous worries for Harbinger only continued to rise even as the burning liquid constantly streamed down his throat. Even amidst his conversation with Patricia he couldn't help but wonder where Harbinger was and how he was managing. Kirito knew just as everyone in the nation did that Harbinger could handle himself just fine. The only problem was Kirito was aware of the fact that the bigger they are the harder they can fall. He was suppose to be Harbinger's mentor. He was suppose to help through any challenges that confronted them yet some how he had managed to get separated not just from him but Katelyn as well. Kirito wasn't all too surprised though with the events that were unfurling before him considering the frenzy over all three of them, but even then he only desired for time simply to console Harbinger whether he wanted it or not. The games change any victor even if they don't believe so, twenty three souls don't just go unnoticed. Especially not for a soul as golden and bright as that of Harbinger Rhodes. 

Luckily Kirito's constant worry wort nature was dimmed once again by the sound of Patricia's own voice in return to his condolences for her loss. Surprisingly Kirito listened as she whole heartily accepted the deaths of her tributes. Then again Kirito always knew that Patricia contained much more strength then most people he had encountered. In fact as he continued to listen to her words he couldn't help but feel his respect for the woman growing even larger than it had been in the beginning. Although Kirito could clearly see, just as anyone could, that it was never smart to pick a bone with Patricia, she was actually much more than meets the eye. Just from the brief words they had already shared Kirito felt more comfortable around her than most of the other victors he had met. Her honest personality and very straight forward attitude even with a bit of hate and anger mixed in was something Kirito found... refreshing? Often Kirito found himself adrift in a sea of false faces but what you got with Patricia was what you got and there was no second face, and that was what Kirito appreciated the most about her. 

As the music across the room shifted to a new genre Kirito felt his thoughts too shift to what he had known about Patricia before meeting her here tonight. It was in that moment Kirito realized he truthfully knew very little about the Victor of the Sixty Eighth Hunger Games. Even as Kirito dug deep within himself to acquire as many details as possible all he could truly find were things from her games. Well, those along with the fact he knew she had a sister but that was just about it. He didn't even know how old her sister was or what she was like, but then again why should he? Besides living in completely separate Districts Kirito was well aware of how absent Patricia was when it came to the cameras. No matter what program she and her family always appeared to be missing which Kirito had no doubt was her own work, and in fact Kirito rather liked that trait about her. In fact, he almost wished he could do the same but with all the recent events he knew it would be quite a long time until he was finally released from the devilish gleam of the cameras. 

Across the room Kirito could have sworn he just spotted the golden gleam of Katelyn's hair just as a light spanned over the crowd. However just as soon as it seemed that she came into his view point she had vanished back into the shifting sea of bodies. Yet although Kirito wished to speak with Katelyn just to check up on how she was doing, he also really wanted to continue his chat with Patricia. So with a partial shrug he downed the final portion of his drink and turned back towards the table. This time Kirito chose to select a relatively light red liquid to fill his glass with before once again returning his attention to Patricia. 

This time though as Kirito made eye contact with Patricia he felt his eyes partially clouding as they focused on her own. Undoubtedly Kirito was quite the light-weight when it came to drinking however he had to admit feeling slightly buzzed was quite the interesting experience. Yet Kirito forced his mind to stop its useless wandering as he listened to Patricia once again while nodding. This time Kirito found himself with questions in his own court and him actually having to search for the answer. Whether it was the alcohol flushing his cheeks or just his nature in general he figured there was no point holding back any information. Especially from Patricia Valifierno as he had just recently learned.

"Well," Kirito began as he indulged in his first gulp of the surprisingly spicy liquid that was now swirling within his glass. "Things have been... interesting, to say the least. Back at home I am still figuring things out with my brother and the whole victory since our lives changed so quickly. However thanks to the wealth I have been able to open a clinic out of my house to use the better supplies I can buy to help out with the others in the district.Other than that I, along with Katelyn and now Harbinger I'm sure, having just been making President Snow one hell of an angry man."

As Kirito's voice lingered off he couldn't help but scan his surroundings while wondering if President Snow could hear everything the two were saying. However as he contemplated the possibility he found himself hoping that he could hear them so he could understand just how much Kirito no longer cared. Kirito knew that Snow was rotted from his heart so at this point he didn't care if he caused the vicious serpent to bleed. However Kirito forced himself from his thoughts as he took yet another swig closer to becoming one hell of a drunken teenager. 

"How about you? How have things been for you since we spoke last quite some time ago?"

This time as Kirito's voice spindled off he noticed Mace approaching and he allowed a smile to slip across his face as he greeted him. However Kirito had to admit he was more than surprised as Mace ruffled his hair before turning to most likely search for Saffron.

"I think we are alright but Cheers!" Kirito hollered to Mace before finally turning his attention fully back to Patricia. "Sorry about that we have a very peculiar relationship but I appreciate it. He is like the Father I never had, if only... Anyway sorry again back to my questions from earlier. How have you been?"

There is a Key to every gate and every exit,

yet every Key has its own cost.

table by anzie

[charade]

KATELYN PERSIMMON

Mace found her first, commenting on her dress and comparing the suit they had him in. But he seemed to be on a mission, because he started walking away almost as soon as he had arrived, stopping a short distance away to talk to…Kirito! Katelyn inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He had Patricia Valfierno with him, and wasn’t being bothered, so that was good. Now she only had to worry about Harbinger. Mace appeared to be in rare form at least, which brightened Katelyn's mood a bit as she watched district eleven's second victor chat over by the drinks area.

District five was a place that Katelyn didn’t have strong feelings about one way or another. She hadn’t even spoken to Pixie or Zeki in the training center and her stay in five during the victory tour had been brief. Lethe Turner was the eldest victor there, but Katelyn had been six when those games had aired so she hardly knew anything about the woman. Patricia, patricia she knew more about; it was hard not to remember the year before she was reaped, when the games seemed like a tragedy that she’d never experience. The dark hole of an arena that had come before her own winter wonderland, and that Patricia had ended district eleven’s latest hope in order to go to the finale.

Harbinger’s brother. Crusader. Tumbling away. Katelyn glanced around uneasily, with all of the people pulling the district eleven victors in a hundred directions over the course of the day, and that Harbinger had spent a good deal of time with the doctors, she hadn’t gotten a chance to see where his head was at. If he was in a fragile state, there was no telling what he might do if confronted with his beloved brother’s killer. It was probably a good idea to keep an eye on things. Leaving her seat, Katelyn wobbled her way towards Kirito and Patricia and leaned on the drinks table. They had Patricia wearing something blue with a floral print that looked a good deal less outlandish than what they had her in, or she felt.

“Glad I found at least one of you.” She said with a nod to Kirito after waiting for a lull in the conversation. “The capitolites are relentless.”Turning to the other victor she offered a handshake.“They find the worst things for us to wear, don’t they?” she asked Patricia with a wry smile.

"When you’ve lost your way, when you have no words,
we are your strength, when you don’t have anymore. "

table coding (c) ghosty

[cass]

opal earnest

She hated this stupid, frilly, disgusting dress they'd demanded she wear. She mussed the ones she would wear in the district, covered in flowers, and all sorts of floral designs, the spitting image of her own garden. They were sometimes an eye sore, with the explosion of colour on them, but they made her feel happy, when she couldn't grasp a reason to be. This black thing wasn't what she wanted to be in. Even after losing Potato she'd not worn black, that awful mourning colour, she'd stuck with reds, and oranges, and every colour she knew that he liked, the ones that had spilled from his garden. Now, with each step she took to move past that point in her life she wanted to feel stronger, and more confident and like the girl that had first claimed victory all those years ago. She wanted a semblance of Opal Earnest who had been in love and so very happy. It was a long road to traverse,but she was strong enough to do this. She knew that, better then before she had the power to go on, and with Mace and Katelyn she was sure she'd manage it. 
 
She bit back any retort, though, swallowing her pride and comments as they slipped her into it, before doing it up behind her. However, as they reached for her face, pencils, tweezers, and brushes alike, she'd swatted their hands away, a little venom in her tone as she told them to leave her be. It wasn't often that she was harsh, but she knew that without a small amount of anger in her tone they'd continue on, ignoring the bite to her words. She swallowed that drop of guilt, knowing that as the night went on she'd be thankful that her face wasn't covered in makeup, whatever cool breeze that might spring up with Winter approaching would be welcomed on her clean skin. Besides, she was certain she looked pretty enough with out all that on her face.

Stepping into the mansion was a ride, it's hard to not feel your stomach twist and turn when you walked in President Snow's house. Taking a deep breathe she moved onwards, entering the room, in which the celebration for the 71st Hunger Games was being held. Glancing around the room she let her gaze shift through the crowd, it was busy, filled to the edges with Capitolites, and in-between those eccentric faces and squealing tones she recognised a number of the victors. Mace's booming voice, Katelyn's golden hair, Patricia's flame. Her eyes shifted past them, narrowing every so slightly as they finally settled on the person she had been looking for.

Making her way through he crowd she stepped forwards, most Capitolites stepped out of her way, a few of which stopped to stare, pulling her shoulders back she ignored their gazes, twisting her lips into a pleased smile as she reached the man that was twice her size in both height and width. He was a beast, a large, dominating animal that seemed to fill half the room, she wouldn't have been unable to notice him, with his massive size. For a moment she was left wondering if he truly was from district Eleven, she could picture Potato standing by his side, a fraction of Harbinger's size, and yet just as fierce in every way. Pushing past  a few more Capitolites she moved to his side, scooping up a glass from a passing waiter she took a delicate sip, before reaching over to gently tap the newest victor on the arm. 

She was sure he'd be hyper sensitive to his surroundings, it was a rather cruel thing to throw a new victor into a situation like this when they'd spent the last week or so killing, and trying to survive. Even now you didn't just shut that off, you were still in survival mode, wondering where the next attack was going to come from. She hoped, her touch wouldn't be too unsettling, so as her fingers grazed his arm, she spoke, hoping the combination would work to her favour, and not startle him, "Harbinger Rhodes." She gave him a warm smile, "congratulations. It might not seem like much, compliments for your victory, I know to me, when people first said that I hated it, but you get it over time, what it means for other victors to say well done for winning." Because in the end he'd gotten out and her two tributes hadn't. Opal guessed it was her way of saying it was okay, that she was glad that he had won, that she accepted him. Even if it didn't mean much to him, she needed to say it for herself.

[✨ zozo.]

SAFFRON LOWE

Introversion bubbles at her throat and seals off her words. She remembers being able to steal whispers of memories with a flick of her hand and steal lives with a surge of violent desperation but now she doesn't even try and fight at the anxiety stealing her voice, swallowing her courage. On a shaky line between friends and something more she teeters, terrified of even touching Mace's skin in case she causes his skin to crack and their lifeline of hands clutched in one-another to cease forever. God knows what might happen should their eyes meet again for the first time since the day the world exploded and almost, almost, did they collide.

Settling in the outskirts of the Victors, she watches intently as they surge forth to one-another, clinging to glasses of wine and handfuls of fabric and real conversation - none of the robotic, rehearsed, sugar-coated bullshit they spit out onto the Capitolite stage. Years ago she would find solace in their conversation but now she feels stuck. Neither in nor out, neither old enough or young enough, constantly trapped between years ago and years to go.

They dressed her in white, the closest neutral Blue could find to suit his victor's requests, but the dress is awful and skin-tight and far too ironic for Saffron's tastes. Innocence lingers against her skin as dust, or rust, or a mixture of both - growing tired of her inconsistent back-and-forth between who she was before and who she's supposed to be afterwards. Patricia saunters through the room with a tumbler in her hand and her previous words echo through the air: "Since when did the Capitol's famed Child-Victor suddenly grow up?" 

Harbinger Rhodes stands amongst his own kind of people, already making friends, and behind his giant stature and shell-shocked face lie kind eyes buried deep within his recent trauma. She wants to say something. She does. But you'll be okay's just don't cut it anymore - because he won't be okay. And she can't lie any more.

She can't even speak.

MY DEMONS ARE BEGGING ME
TO OPEN UP MY MOUTH
I NEED THEM TO MECHANICALLY
MAKE THE WORDS COME OUT

too short didn't read: saff being an awkward mute hermit as per usual

[rook]

patricia valfierno

The oaky taste of the whiskey is single malt, and slightly sweet - Hardly comparable to the brews of Five, which are far more stiff and straight, the kind of liquor that could bring even Harbinger to his knees. I grew up in the alleyways of Five. Rose and I never really had a place to settle after our parents left us. Liar. I could never really explain to my little sister why they would just abandon us, a twelve year old and a ten year old, completely out of the blue. Because I was so ridden with guilt. But growing up rough isn't uncommon in my District. There's hundreds of homeless kids and homeless adults and homeless old men, all sharing whiskey and stories and diseases.

I could probably drink anyone in this room under a table, with the exception of Arbor, who I've been told is a serial alcoholic. I say that like it's a crime, but it really isn't. I don't blame him in all honesty, I don't know what the guy's been through. I'm surprised it's taken me this long to start drinking, but then I don't really plan to carry on. I only need alcohol when I'm in such dire company.

Although, it's not all bad. Most of the Victors, I can't stand. I've had run-ins with a few. They're unbearable - The arrogant, give-up-all-hope types, at least. Kirito is okay, probably a lot nicer than I gave him credit for to start with, and Saffron's not all bad once you get past her silent exterior. I've probably been a bit harsh on the ones I haven't spoken to - Katelyn, Topaz, and Klaus, for example. I need to stop passing judgement on people I barely know, especially if I'm basing my views from what I see on television. I think I know better than that now.

"Things have been... interesting, to say the least." Kirito starts talking, and I sort of regret asking him because he more or less tells me his entire life story, and I was only being polite. He goes on about family troubles, which I can compeltely relate to, but probably not in the same way. It's nice to hear about the benefits that District Eleven is getting from their hat-trick of Victors. Eleven and Twelve really do struggle in the winter, and there's no doubt in my mind that less people will die because of this. I know my victory helped some people in Five, but I sure as hell don't think I saved anyone other than myself.

"Other than that I, along with Katelyn and now Harbinger I'm sure, having just been making President Snow one hell of an angry man." He finishes, and I can't help but smile at that. I am sure that Snow hates the Eleven-Trio, because Snow's very pro-Career Districts for obvious reasons. Too many Victors in low Districts gives hope, and hope is very unpredictable. Despite that, I'm smiling because no matter how much hope Kirito, Katelyn, and Harbinger are bringing to Eleven, I'm almost certain that Snow hates me even more than he hates them. I doubt he's started threatening their family and friends this early.

"How about you? How have things been for you since we spoke last quite some time ago?" He returns, and I have to think back to little over a year ago when Kirito had his Victory Tour. I overlooked him. I was too angry with Lethe to give him a decent reception, but I remember being polite to begin with. Heck, I think I even comforted him. Ripred, I must have been feeling ill or something.

"Things are okay." I say, not really knowing what else to add, "It's been pretty quiet actually, which is... Nice."
I don't mention Snow shipping me off to the Career Districts to give the cheesy seminars and workshops to up-and-coming Careers. Nor do I mention getting my ass kicked by them all in sparring sessions. Fucking hell it makes me mad just trying to push it out of my mind. Snow's childish revenge for something that didn't even matter. It's not like I started a fucking rebellion, I was just trying to survive. Like anyone.

Mace passes by, and our eyes meet for a second. He offers to get us drinks, but Kirito is quick to dismiss him. I heard he and Julian split, but before I can catch his attention again, he's gone, so I shrug and don't give Emberstatt's relationship problems a second thought.

"Glad I found at least one of you." Comes a voice I'm not overly familiar with. It's Katelyn, and she's dressed in something far less outlandish than me, which annoys me already. Her hair is Capitol golden, just like Lethe's, although I expect she's far more opposed to that description than my co-District Victor would be. Truth be told, Lethe isn't strictly against the Capitol, and if she is, she's got an odd way of showing it. She pretty much pretends the Games and the Capitol don't exist, and lives her little fairytale happy ending like she was never Reaped. I'm sure Kate is far more realistic than that.

"The capitolites are relentless." She complains, although I think it's more of a passing comment. It's always a given that Capitolites may as well be from another planet, the way they act and obsess over the Games like it really is a TV show. She extends her hand to shake, and I stare at it for a few seconds, considering whether I like this girl or not, and even if I don't, if I should just stop being so stubborn and uptight and shake her hand anyway.

I shake her hand, because I figure she's a million miles from being like Lethe Turner, and that's a good enough starting point for me.

"They find the worst things for us to wear, don’t they?" She jokes, and I slump in a very tomboyish way, pulling an unattractive face that completely opposes the glamourous outfit I've been forced to wear. I don't want to talk about clothes, I've had about five hundred questions about my outfit and my hair and my makeup, and there are far more important things than that, but when you're a woman, it's all people fucking care about. They're up asking Peridot about his ambitions post-Victory and if the rumours about him courting younger women are true, and all I get asked is "Who did your hair?" - And I don't know why I'm even getting angry about it, because I won't even answer any media regardless of what I'm being asked, on principle alone.

"I can't breathe properly in this thing." I sip at my drink again, eyes glancing around the room for Leon.
"Then again, I haven't been able to breathe properly since I got stabbed in the fucking sternum, but hey! Cheers to absent friends!" I raise my glass sarcastically.

And absent enemies.

[Cato]

Harbinger Rhodes Eighteen | Male | District Eleven

Since I've been released from the infirmary, my mind has done nothing but reflect on what I've done to get here. Knowing that I've killed people slowly destroys me from the inside out. Each time I close my eyes, all I can see is the faces of them. Of Chloe, Daria, Someith, and Heather. And I can hear the twenty-three cannons rapidly firing in the back of my mind. I wasn't happy with my mentors. I didn't want to hate them, but they left me for dead. I needed them, and they didn't pull through. I won on my own. I won without them, and right now, I don't need them. Which is probably why I'm ignoring every word they say while the car transports us to another building. "I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna be rough. But just make it through this and once we get on the train we can unwind and a have moment's peace to really talk." It's strange hearing these words catch me off guard for only a moment, and for a split second everything seems alright. I need her right now more than I ever imagined, but I can't let her know that. She didn't bring me home. Kirito didn't bring my home. No, I brought myself home. I did it without their help, but none of that seems to matter anymore. "There'll never be a moment's peace ever again." It may seem harsh, but it's the honest reality. It aggravates me knowing that they're having a party for me. I don't want any of it. I don't want to celebrate what has happened. I can't look all the other victors in the eye as they dance around celebrating what I have done. Surely they hate me for what I've done. I had no option though. None of us did. None of us wanted this. Yet it happened. I was chosen. I was supposed to die, but I reckon other plans were made for me. Soon the car stops, and I'm shrugging my shoulders towards Kirito. I don't want to be associated with him or Katelyn. I don't want to spend the rest of my life helping them because they never helped me. Gripping my cane, I force myself into a standing position until I finally make my way inside where some victors have already gathered around. They're having fun. I can feel my blood boiling inside of me as I walk further inside. Some are already passing around drinks, and my own mentors have already began talking with other people leaving me behind just like they did in the arena. My grip tightens around the cane as I hold onto it for a lifeline. It's a tether keeping me grounded in reality, however, my mind slowly drifts away. Faces begin to fade from one to another, and I swear I see Chloe staring at me for a moment. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes trying to get her face away from my face. I can't look at her, not here, not right now because today is a bad day. It's a constant reminder of what happens, but slowly I stop when I'm standing next to Kirito and Katelyn. I don't want to have a constant reminder of the games, and I know that drinking is wrong. I swore I wouldn't ever do it growing up, but now it seems that it may help. Slowly walking away from the other's, I stop when I'm in front of a table with wine on it. Staring at Mace, I wonder what to say to him. Maybe he can help me better than anyone else here, but then again, his tributes died. Both of them early on in the game, yet it's all apart of it. Out of nowhere, Opal is standing in front of me. A career congruatling on my win. It's hard, it truly is, and Chloe is standing behind her. She's trying to get me to follow her, but I can't do anything about it right now. Looking away, I shake my head, but I stare into the eyes of Opal. "I'll never forgive myself for the atrocities I committed. I didn't win anything other than a lifetime of nightmares and regret." I want to ask her how she did it. How she's survived so long watching her brother die in the games. Watching Potato. Watching all of it. But what can I do? Lifting a glass from the table, I nod at Mace before turning back to Opal. Maybe she can help me. But all of them here have won the games. Every single person standing in this room has been in my shoes, yet some have been longer than other's. Katelyn and Kirito are still very new to all this, and Opal has been a mentor since I was eleven. Seven years she's mentored tributes. Seven years she's lost people - it's seven more years than I have. Opal even lost a leg like I did. Perhaps I can find a friend in her. Shaking my head again, I fight against the faces that are forming in front of me. How can I celebrate knowing I killed them? It's all silent until the glass falls from my hands shattering against the ground sending the liquid inside flying across the floor. Leaning forward, I try to pick it all up, but I'm unsteady on my leg. Tears stain the brim of my eyes as I fight to keep my composure. Sighing to myself, I lower myself towards the ground until I'm finally capable of sweeping it all up. Using my inner strength, I do what I can to stop myself from losing control. Nothing makes sense anymore. But I am here, and Katelyn is right. I survived the games, and now it's time for me to live. Not only for the twenty-three who died in the games, but for myself, and my family.

Victor Of The 71st Hunger Games

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[анзие (Anz)]

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are the walls to lock you in or others away?

[attr="class","anziescroll"] "It's a lot harder than it looks, isn't it?" The words escape his lips the moment he catches Harbinger's gaze, but they surprise him too. After all, Leon has spent the entirety of today arguing with his stylist that going to District Eleven's third victory party in Snow's mansion is only going to end in a lot of breaking glass. His eventual concession was that he wouldn't have to speak to anyone in the area, and he fully intended to keep it that way. From the moment Leon arrived, decked out in a soft white three-piece suit, he's kept to himself and a glass of champagne in his hand for company. With his back turned to the crowd, he's able to keep an eye both on the twinkling lights of the Capitol and Harbinger Rhodes. Something about the boy reminds Leon of his own memories of too-bright lights and overwhelming crowds after days of near-isolation; his vision blurred and darkened with dizzying speed, and Leon returned then to himself leaning against the wall, eyes on the 71st victor. He needed a stronger drink, and so now finds himself seated at the bar, nursing a glass of some kind of strong-smelling alcohol. The words now hang between himself and Harbinger, too late now to take back; Leon takes a sip of his drink, taking in the way Harbinger grips the handle of his cane like it was a lifeline.  "Winning's not all they make it out to be, sometimes."

[attr="class","anzieside"] [attr="class","anziehover"] leon krigel victor of the 67th games you're a lion full of power who forgot how to roar