Around the World and Back // Kay

[charade]

KATELYN PERSIMMON

This was not what she wanted to be doing.

She should have been out there, delivering aid and keeping an eye on the people from eleven that had come to help.

Instead, she was at the benefit party, faking smiles to the elite in the room around her, many of whom appeared to be trying and failing to emulate the people in the Capitol. Dolled up in a way that befitted a victor. The pale green dress and the light brown heels were supposed to be a nod to her districts industry. The makeup and the plaited hair were another thing entirely. It didn’t bother her like it used to. There were some battles that weren’t worth the energy it would take to fight them. And there were other people in the room to worry about.

At least the mayor seemed like he actually gave a damn.

Fabian Perch. It was a name that rolled off of the tongue before coming to a sudden stop. He looked to be in his early fifties maybe; Katelyn had never been good with ages, but despite the growing wrinkles, he had a sort of youthfulness around him. He was built like a career, which wasn’t surprising as most adults in the career districts had trained in the younger days. She listened to his speech about the plight of district four and detected a note of earnestness in his words. The flourish of his hand movements were like the waves that had come crashing down, but his eyes seemed so very, very tired.

She sighed to herself before refilling her glass with cranberry juice. Along with their mayor, Katelyn and the boys were about the only celebrities in district eleven. Which meant that at events like this, people were guaranteed to talk to them. At least Harbinger had managed to get himself assigned to one of the rescue parties quickly. She had wanted to oversee food distribution but hadn’t been asked so much as told to go the benefit, and in the wake of Iain’s death, she agreed. But for her own reasons. She drank and waited. Sooner or later, the mayor was going to talk to her; not for the first time, not when he had welcomed her to his district three years in a row on the tours, but the difference was that this time he was asking for help instead of catering to the victors from eleven.

Not that he had done much more than welcome them every time; his countenance seemed strained. But for that she couldn’t blame him. Not only did district four have but a single victor in the past couple decades, but last year, when they had been doing well, Harbinger had killed both of their tributes. Who could fault him for distancing himself from victors and their ilk? Her eyes drifted around the room until they settled on a blond girl that was staring at her with purpose. She was used to those kinds of looks and they didn’t bother her. Try staring down a pack of sabretooth tigers or the tribute that killed two of the closest things you had to friends. Squealing fans and people that were pissed about her district’s repeated wins didn’t even register on her radar.

Still, she gave the girl the once over. Bleached hair. Blue eyes that held little warmth, but bespoke of intelligence. A dress that didn’t fit correctly. The acne told Katelyn that this girl was still young, probably reaping age. She supposed the makeup was supposed to make her look older, but she didn’t carry herself like a woman. More like the idea of one. Katelyn had to wonder why this teenager was important enough to be at the benefit, or who she was related to. Maybe even a little intrigued. Not that she was looking for conversation.

Somehow though, she knew it would find her.

Some things in life were inevitable.

"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

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

She spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky
She said walk on over here to the bitter shade
I will wrap you in my arms and you'll know that you're saved

For once, the Perches were not the ones hosting a soiree. They were guests - honored guests - which afforded them a fractional amount of freedom. He didn't need to be at the venue all day, checking on tableware and organizing music lists. In fact, he was expected to arrive late, to be announced, and then simply to circulate. "I could get used to this," he whispered into Althea's dark curls as they navigated the room.

She reminded him of the price of admission: the waterfront of their district obliterated, the city sprinkled with insidious mold. He scolded her for being a spoil sport, if only to hide the magnitude of his embarrassment, and then they split up. The sooner they greeted all of the honored guests, the sooner they could leave. He dreamed already of tucking his youngest into bed, of checking on his teenagers to be sure they hadn't wandered into the wasteland outside of their home. Small dreams, but good ones. It was the first glimmer of himself, as a father, rather than as a Mayor of a stricken district.

He brushed by the buffet table. He was hungry - borderline starving - but it was difficult to schmooze and eat at the same time. He settled for a drink. Water. Water which had almost washed away his home, his family. Water, which had risen up and wiped away their harbor. So many lives lost; countless more livelihoods. He stared down at the glass, perplexed by its innocence.

"This way, Mayor Perch," Arezoo - his newest assistant - was saying. He hadn't even noticed her, which was a wonder, given the gaudy outfit she'd dug out of who-knew-where. Not everyone had his wife's fashion sensibilities.

"Sorry, of course. Who next?"

"Who else?" She said with a shrug.

Fabian held the glass of water against his heart as Zoo made a beeline for the most famous person in the room. He'd done his best to affix a polite smile to his face, but there was a reason why he'd only just barely won re-election; Fabian wore his heart on his sleeve. His green eyes darkened even as he extended his free hand. "Katelyn Persimmon. Thank you for coming in the hour of our need."

He was so close to saying something he'd regret when he felt Zoo's hand on his forearm. She introduced herself as his assistant and remarked on some of the driftwood decor.

Fabian cleared his throat. "You know, I am rather hungry, Arezoo. I'm sure our guest is as well. Would you mind terribly?"

Zoo glanced between them, reluctance written over her acne-smattered face. She grumbled something, finally deciding the pay check was worth more than watching the fireworks, and excused herself to the buffet. Fabian finally unwound his wrist, lifting his glass of water to his lips. He watched her over the lip of the glass. There was something steady about Katelyn Persimmon that he liked, quite in spite of himself. He felt disloyal every time he nodded along to one of her videos.

He couldn't betray Four tonight, no matter how much he wanted to know Katelyn better. "I don't think you and I have ever had a proper conversation. Of course I shouldn't monopolize your time. I believe you already have met many of our famous families, but perhaps you'd like a re-introduction?"

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[charade]

KATELYN PERSIMMON

He was watching her, sizing her up. The look reminded her of looks tributes gave each other in the training center. She responded in kind, sipping softly at her juice and meeting his gaze over the rim of her cup. When he spoke, he was curt; border line rude even, clearly not any happier than her that they were expected to hobnob and eager to pawn her off on someone else. “It’s no trouble at all.” She said smoothly. “I don’t think the Krearns or any of the other famous families are anxious to see me. Victors can make people uncomfortable. Remind them of what they’ve lost. Or of their failures. Wouldn’t you agree, Mayor Perch?” She finished dryly. Still, she walked with him, wondering when his assistant was going to start following, and then waited a minute or two before changing the subject.

“It’s a terrible tragedy.” But then, when weren’t they all? “At least the Capitol’s response was quick. We lingered in the drought for several months.” The words came out a little colder than she had intended. “But I guess plants that die from the heat can be replaced next harvest; A harbor, boats, nets, the fishermen themselves? I don’t envy the amount of rebuilding you have to do here, even with help.” It was honest. She meant it. District Fours plight was not something that could be ignored. “Strange isn’t it? When faced with disaster working together makes us stronger. And yet the Capitol spends most of the time encouraging district rivalry. I wonder why.” It was not a question, but a statement. A small way to voice her displeasure.

Each of the other times she had been to four, she hadn’t gotten to see much of the district, tangled in the tours instead. Staring at rows of stony faces she imagined were wondering how a stick of a girl was giving a speech instead of strong Alexis or fiery Daphne. How a slip of a boy survived when three of their careers had not, or how a young man with one leg killed two of their strongest careers in recent years before taking the crown home. There had been no time to walk along the shoreline, no time to dine at a local restaurant. She had met plenty of careers though. They were the ones who couldn’t wait to gush or crow about how they wanted to be a victor; or wanted an autograph or a photo for posterity’s sake.

And now, many of those places were wrecked, the shoreline was covered in debris, and some of those careers were likely in watery graves, snuffed out by a fate almost as cruel and random as a slip of paper in a bowl being picked up. “I’ve never been to a beach.” She remarked offhand. “It’s too bad that I’ll be visiting them under these circumstances. I know your district is beautiful." "Anyway," she continued with a shrug. "It’s up to you if you want to continue making the social rounds with me on your arm. It’s what we’re expected to do.” She spared a glance behind her and saw the Mayor’s assistant balancing two plates of food several feet away and coming towards them. “Of course, I’m sure dignitaries like ourselves can find some excuse not to.”

"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

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

She spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky
She said walk on over here to the bitter shade
I will wrap you in my arms and you'll know that you're saved

Fabian nearly choked on the water - and what an irony that would have been - when she not only name dropped the Krearns, but called his bluff. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand to hide a smile. Like any good politician, he admired the ability to verbally spar. Not all weapons can be held with your hands, one of his earliest Career mentors had said. He'd taken it more to heart than she'd meant. "I suppose not all men like to be reminded of their failures. I try to learn from mine," he answered her question as smoothly as she'd answered his.

He drained the last of his water, nodding, when she transitioned from the tsunami to the drought. He remembered. He remembered thinking the district looked alien, like nothing he could have ever seen imagined. He didn't know the ground could crack into patterns, didn't know that trees could grow spikes, didn't know that people could survive on so little. "No district should have to suffer such ill fortune." And yet they both had. He lifted an eyebrow by centimeters as she wondered why. It was the privilege of victors to be able to voice such thoughts; they could not be voted out of their crowns. The best he could manage - the closest to agreement - was a hushed, "I wonder."

He set his glass down on a tray, then folded his hands in front of his hips. He clocked Zoo a moment before Katelyn. By then, a plan had already formed. He looked over the heads of the two women to find his wife, dutifully greeting the guests. Somewhere Leon Krigel out to be pulling his weight and not with Fabian's daughter. There were other victors, even a few Capitolites. Plenty of entertainment.

"Zoo, I think the denizens of the District would appreciate the feast more than Miss Persimmon or I. See that the excess food is donated to the relief centre, will you?"

He dropped his green gaze from Arezoo, who huffed and turned to the kitchen, to meet Katelyn's steady gaze. In a nod to her choice of words, Fabian offered his right arm. "I may not be able to rebuild our harbor over night or resurrect those the ocean has taken from us, but I can rectify this one tragedy." He offered her a smile, warm and fatherly. "Everyone should feel the sand between their toes, at least once in their life."

It took some maneuvering. Fabian trailed behind his assistant into the kitchens. Everyone stared, but no one stopped them. At the back door, a Peacekeeper stepped into their path. Fabian murmured a few words, and then the same Keeper held the door for them.

He waited until they cleared her earshot. "I'm not proud to say that our Keepers can be bought, but it does make life a little easier." He flinched a little, even as he admitted the discretion, and then fell to silence as they navigated the busiest part of the district. It was a perfect night, half a moon winking at them, a humid breeze retaining the day's heat. There had once been a boardwalk where they could have seen the coastline stretch for miles. It was gone, splintered to driftwood. The remnants of it formed a sort of berm, and at this - the beach's edge - he stopped and gently unwound his arm.

"After you."

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lyrics: robert pattinson let me sign

[charade]

KATELYN PERSIMMON

The Mayor recovered swiftly from having his bluff called, although Katelyn couldn’t fathom why he had bothered to bluff in the first place. She supposed it was a game of sort, the kind that the careers played in the training center every year, trying to psyche out potential opponents before push came to shove. She had learned some of that in the arena herself, keeping your enemy off balance with words could push them towards making a mistake. Get them angry and they stop being as careful. But she didn’t think Fabian Perch was an enemy. She wasn’t sure what he was or what he was trying to be.

He had agreed in his own way about the drought, but had been less forthcoming about her next statement. The look that had crossed his face had said that he was watching his tongue; probably because his position was tenuous. A victor was a victor for life or the semblance of one. Mayors could be replaced and indeed, as she thought about it, there were a few districts that seemed to change faces every year or so. Others, like McFadden’s weathered brow or Rohan’s steely gaze were immutable. She couldn’t blame him for covering his rear, but she was a little disappointed. He seemed like an earnest sort. Then again, the man had children and she knew too well that the Capitol had no qualms about striking someone through their loved ones.

When his assistant drew near, he surprised her by waving the girl away with orders to give the food to someone else before declaring that he would take her to the beach. She had thought she was implying that they should sit and eat instead of socializing but she was still pleased with the outcome. People stared as they made their way into the kitchens, however no one so much as pointed. Then she thought about some of the things printed about some of the victors in Capitol magazines and she figured they thought a sight like that was normal. With embarrassment written on his features he explained that they were easily bribed as long as one had the social standing required. “Careful Mayor Perch, or people will get ideas.” She said softly in amusement as the peacekeeper eyeballed them.

“The Peacekeepers are different in eleven.” She said as soon as they were out of earshot. “It seems like half of them just don’t care enough to bother doing their job and the other half seem to resent being assigned to such a low district and take it out on the people.” They walked and she stared at the night sky, at the twinkling stars and the same moon she saw at home. She breathed in deeply, tasting salt in the air, feeling it on her skin. Katelyn never tired of how the other districts felt different. Eventually, he unhooked his arm and motioned at their destination. She looked at the ridge that nature had formed from manmade materials and shook her head before stepping over it, kicked off the ridiculous heels that her stylist had given her and felt the warm sand on her feet.

It was similar to walking in a freshly ploughed field or at least that was the closest she could compare it to because it wasn’t the same. The ocean, dark and mysterious in the night sent waves crashing against the shoreline. “A person could get lost out here.” She said quietly, drinking in the sight. “No border, just water stretching into infinity.” She walked forward, letting a rolling wave swirl around her ankles and the hem of her dress. The moonlight resolved a dark shape in the distance into a ship, or part of one. “It’s a senseless waste of life. “She said as she stared at the wreckage, unsure of what she meant.

Katelyn was quiet as she gathered her thoughts and wondered briefly if she was apologizing. “The first person from district four that I met took a swing at one of my allies. So I cut off her leg.” She sighed and paced along the shoreline, jaded frustration boiling to the surface. “I know I'm usually seen as strong one. The face. It’s… and most of the time I find it easier to confide in near strangers rather than those closest to me. I have to be strong for them. I can’t fly off the handle. I can’t fall to pieces. I can’t tell them I’ve tired. That I’m barely twenty-one and I feel like I’ve been doing this for ages. They rely on me.” She fell silent again, listening to the water lapping at the sand. It was peaceful. Calming. She could almost forget that the seventy-third game was crawling towards them.

Almost.

“Thank you for this.” She said as she turned to look at him. “But tell me sailor, are we going to ramble about injustices all night or find our way back to that awful function?" She asked with a wry smile. “I’d hate for your wife to think poorly of me.”

"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

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

She spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky
She said walk on over here to the bitter shade
I will wrap you in my arms and you'll know that you're saved

“Careful Mayor Perch, or people will get ideas.”

Her words rattled around his skull, folding into the crash of the tide. People certainly might. The idea hadn’t occurred to him prior to this particular meeting, but now that it had, he felt a certain protectiveness over her. When she spoke of the Peacekeepers from her outer district, the wrinkles along his forehead deepened to worry lines. Indeed, from the snippets of privileged information that crossed his desk, he could imagine far worse treatment than they received in Four. His mind wandered, wondering how much Katelyn Persimmon endured on a daily basis.

“A person could get lost out here.”

“Many have,” he murmured to himself, to the water god, to the moon. While she dipped her toes into the water, Fabian kicked off his shoes and let his own feet sink into the sand. He was half tempted to dive in, to swim out to the buoys and back, chasing the tide. He never tired of it, even though he swam every day – except the day of the thundering tsunami.

“It’s only a waste if we don’t remember – if we don’t learn from it.”

But Katelyn’s feet had already carried her away, kicking at the damp earth as she processed their shared history. He wanted to tell her that it was alright, that he forgave her for the severed limb, for snatching victory away in the 71st, for all of it. But he couldn’t find a way to form the words without patronizing, and that was worse than not saying anything at all, because he respected her far too much to condescend to her.

When she finally paused, Fabian scooped up his shoes, glanced at the moon, and finally said, “in my experience, the strongest do not feel strong. They are simply the ones best able to acknowledge their own weakness, and persevere.”

He chuckled at the use of “sailor” which was not wholly inaccurate, but certainly out of date. He hadn’t been on a boat in far too long. This time, he didn’t offer his arm, even as he fell into step with her. “Oh, I suppose we shouldn’t keep them guessing too long. And it occurs to me you haven’t had the opportunity to spend much time with Althea. She’s far too pragmatic to think ill of anyone.” He smiled in the dark, turning his back on the siren call. “This has been illuminating, Katelyn. I hope to see you again soon, perhaps one day under less dire circumstances.”

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lyrics: robert pattinson let me sign