Fault Line // Cato

[charade]

KATELYN PERSIMMON

The male tribute from district eleven hadn’t died in the bloodbath since Ellexias had buried her ice pick in Levi’s skull. Full circle in five years. Katelyn wondered what that meant for Desimae. She dared not hope, not with one of her charges dead in the opening moments of the games, but it was hard not to wonder. She sighed. Somehow, Desi had managed to endear herself to enough people to get sponsors. It had taken some cajoling, but she’d managed it, to say nothing of what Kirito and Harbinger had been up to.

They’d sent her a canteen, an axe and a pair of combat gloves. It wasn’t much, but it was something. More than they’d managed to send some of the other tributes over the last few years. Some part of her hoped that Desimae might see that she was trying, but she doubted it. The Desimae she was seeing on television was not the same one she’d talked to in their quarters. The girl was playing a role, for all her talk of Katelyn being an actress.

But then, wasn’t that the way it always was? It was easier to accuse someone of doing something so that you didn’t have to take a closer look at yourself. If you could lie to yourself, you’d lie to everyone around you whether you were aware of it or not. Katelyn sighed and rubbed at her temples. The girl had teamed up with a ruthless career from one, a religious boy from eight and a thief from district twelve.

Of them, only Jenoah seemed to be alright. If Mitchell was really a criminal, well he couldn’t be trusted. As for Asha, he seemed bloodthirsty and cold, Katelyn wouldn’t have put it past him to murder the rest of them in their sleep once they ceased to be useful. She took solace in knowing that Justice and Opal would almost certainly be trying to help Pillar. How could they not? She was family. Like the girl from ten, going home to Saffron in a box because of Desimae’s alliance.

It was not a conversation she wanted to have, but it was one she was going to bring up at some point anyway. These were lives being wasted, gambled away. She couldn’t just ignore it.

Katelyn sighed.

“Well. We did what we could right?” she said to Harbinger as she crumpled the water bottle up.“I tried with Desimae and she threw it in my face. At least she’s still kicking.” She was injured, but her alliance had managed to pull through, maybe they’d do so again, even against the quartet they were facing. Katelyn shook her head tiredly and fixed her eyes on Harbinger.

“I never got to ask, how’d it go with Drake?”

"I'm a realist, and an optimist,

but I swear to you, I'm not getting over this."



table coding (c) ghosty

[Cato]

Harbinger Rhodes Twenty One| Male | District Eleven

It's the first day of the actual games, and of course they've started off wonderfully. Not that it matters. Drake died. He's gone forever, and I'm going to return to district eleven, look at his family, and offer condolences. It's the same thing every year, only this year I don't have to look at my family, or Kirito's family and apologize for failing. Desimae is doing well it seems. She's in an alliance, and she's staying alive. That's what matters right? Maybe she has what it takes to become a victor. Maybe she'll survive until the end and come home alive. I'll greet her with a smile and a handshake and maybe a hug if that happens, and then I'll hate myself. Because it means bringing her home alive when I failed Iain and Weaver.

"Well. We did what we could right?" Kate asks, and I turn and look at her trying to keep a straight face. She says that she tried with Desimae, and that she just threw it in her face. But at least she's still alive. I shrug my shoulders slightly. I don't care what it's like. I don't care if she's alive or dead. As bad as it sounds, I don't care that Drake is dead. Part of me feels bad. Part of me feels like I should care, but losing Iain right after I won, then losing Weaver last year changed me. It did something to me. I have to stop caring because I don't want to get hurt anymore. I can't live with myself if Desi makes it out of the games alive. "I never got to ask, how'd it go with Drake?"

For a moment my heart plummets into my stomach before quickly leaping into my throat. I just shrug my shoulders again. I didn't try to help him. I might have gave him some advice, but it wasn't much. It wasn't enough to save him. And he's dead now, and I should feel worse than I do, but I don't. Is it wrong? Maybe. It's not a Miristioma, and it's not one of my family members. We're safe, isn't that what matters? A soft sigh leaves my lips as I try to think of something to say. An answer to her question, but I don't know what to say. "It went alright, I suppose." I say quietly keeping my tone steady. "He was really, really quiet."

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