Everything's a Mess // [76th D10 Train]

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

♕ m a c e ♕

❝ one more word,
and you won't survive ❞

Mayor Mace Emberstatt sat in the scenic caboose, holding his sleeping daughter and staring at the flashing scenery. They weren't long past the Disrict; golden hills still gently rolled ahead. He'd have given a lot to bury his head in the wheat stalks. Their rustle and thrum would surely be enough to drown the cacophony in his brain. My fellow citizens... The speech he'd had to memorize, the words he'd had to speak, alone at the microphone - it was all a huge mistake. As victor, he always stood with Saffron, gripping her good hand, finding warmth in her fingertips. As Mayor, he would always stand alone.

And instead of staying behind to reassure his populace, he was once again hurtling towards the Capitol, the mentor of two young lives who had volunteered themselves into his caretaking.

Well, three young lives, really.

His daughter hiccuped in her sleep. Mace shifted, drawing her head closer to his thundering chest. Soon, she would wake, and when that happened, he would have to turn her over to Saffron. No matter how much he wanted to care for her, every moment, he couldn't feed her. It filled him with a powerful, bizarre disappointment. He didn't know what to do with that feeling, any more than he knew what to do when he looked at Rory and Emberly.

"Suppose both of you have some idea what you're about to face," he said quietly. He'd already greeted them both, as Mayor, as Victor. But this was the first moment he had a chance to be himself. "And you should know there's not a whole lot Saffron or I can do for you. Whatever happens in that arena, it'll be you in there, not us. Think you're ready for that?"

Because I sure as hell wasn't.

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

I never got to wave good bye, I never saw the tail end of the train as it departed; a simple slap around the face was my farewell to Rodrick.

Momma and Pops, predictable as ever in the justice building, tears filled with anger rather than pain, questions thrown about, the main one being why? I could have told them the truth but I am relying on Rodney to grow a heart and surrender it to them. The person who forced two of their sons into the games should be the one to reveal the truth. Again, I am going to regret missing that moment.

Nobody waved farewell to me, my eyes didn’t dare look out the window as the train rolled away from the platform, and they still haven’t evaluated the scenery that I suspect is just miles of fields flashing by us as we travel at an unsavoury speed. If I am feeling nauseous about a train journey, this plan of mine is looking very short lived.

Sitting away from the window is my only best bet of not delivery a package of puke for the three victors and my district partner, not that their focus is on me anyway. My presence is shadowed by a family affair, any likely interaction will be received from the god bothered but my life is where it is now because of false fantasy stories and I’d rather not pour toxins over infected wounds.

Mace is the first to break the silence as I push my chair away from the table heavily filled with food, the aroma of sweet pastries and meat is not helping to calm my brewing stomach; Mace’s words are not a pain reliever either. ”I suppose so.” I plant my words into a split second of silence but Mace continues with more. ”Do ya have all that rehearsed, Mace? Are there cards with the lines hidden on that baby?”