ship to wreck | stella x ex oh

[alex 🐺]

s t e l l a ; 

Stella could do this. She had survived the horrors of the Games, the machinations of three Gamemakers and President Snow. She had faced down tributes far more trained and skilled than her. She had taken three lives and destroyed countless others by surviving. She had gone days without eating, staying warm by a hastily built fire and salvaging supplies from those she had killed. She had worn the pelt of the wolf, carried the spear of a savage, and yet she was terrified. Nerves making her heart beat a staccato in her chest.

She could so do a blind date. Easy.

The apartment that she had been given during the Seventy-Ninth Games was the very same that she had used to rebuild herself after the Seventy-Eighth. Broken pieces of a fragile mosaic painted in blood and reshaped in the image of the Capitol. She was whole, she was alive, something that she had to remind herself each night when she woke in a cold sweat, fear dripping down her body, the skin of her cheeks tingling where Aeson Kight had left his mark, her legs burning where Euley Sarasin had dug her claws into Stella. She had braved the horrors of the games and had survived, battered and broken and not quite whole, but she had survived. A date with a pretty girl would be easy, no?

She chose a bistro that had received rave reviews from the Capitol’s elite foodies. Her outfit was a black strappy jumpsuit with tan heels. Her lips were red. Blood red. And her hair was as straight as she could make it - the light blonde that her stylist had colored it was fading to show off darker highlights, but she looked good.

Flirtations over Twitter meant nothing when facing down the Capitol’s darling, but Stella counted herself in the elite as well. She sipped on some sparkling water, waiting for her. Her nails digging into her palms hidden in her lap. She bit her lip, gnawing on the skin - a bad habit for the sixteen-year-old, but something that had saved her countless times in the games from screaming out.

Stella fought the urge look around, afraid that she was being stood up. But there was late and then there was fashionably late. No doubt her date would choose the latter.

thread title taken from florence and the machine

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

EX OH VAN DER WOODSEN

Like any sleuth worth her salt, Ex Oh had been on the hunt for the best kept secret in Panem: information about the 80th Quell Games. Unlike other journalists, gossips, detectives, she wasn't particular - at first. She hungered for the arena map sketch, any hint of a twist, obviously the Gamemakers. Thinking back on it, she hadn't cared much about the Gamemakers at all during her initial search. They were always just people trying to keep their heads attached to their necks, right?

But then something strange happened.

Nothing.

No rumors kicked up about any lucky select few. No whispers about someone perfectly positioned for such an honor. Nothing.

So she abandoned all work on the other information and set her sites specifically on who would be running the Games. She turned over all possibilities, even staking out a few former Gamemakers. So far she had learned that Capricious refilled her botox lips way more frequently than was medically safe (but like, did anyone actually care?), Nilima could do better, Amethyst actually said 'please' and 'thank you' to her avoxes (weirdo?), and Zaya could crack nearly every bone in her body, and frequently did (crack, crack... maybe there was a story here after all).

But none of these habits led to anything substantial. She ran through a list of powerful Capitolites who could be tapped for the position, and barring anyone she couldn't access (such as the Peacekeepers), she came up empty again.

Lately, in the middle of the 79th Games, she'd been entertaining crazier possibilities. It could be a Gamemaker-less Games, somehow, although that would have been a good twist for the 75th. No one had seen Cricket Antoinette coming, and she was a victor first after all. Should that twist be upcycled, Ex Oh personally preferred a Justice Fray and Jacinta Salazar duo, just for the drool opportunities. But no, she liked to think she knew President Snow better than that. He wouldn't repeat himself, not so quickly. So then, what?

The obsession spun her round and round, costing her sleep and meals and good conversation. There was only one thing to do: she had to step away from the problem and let her subconscious solve it in its own time. Hopefully before everyone else did.

Stella Blakesley was, not for the first time, the very answer she'd been looking for. Her choice of restaurant spoke to her excellent, if surprising, taste. Some souls were just born in the wrong district. She'd come directly from shaking down a makeup artist - yes, it was still Plan A to set aside her obsession - so she looked more business than pleasure. An ivory sheath dress hugged her neck and knee, spiky stilettos and a row of bangles added for a bit of flair. It was sensible, but the moment she spotted Stella, fashion forward and sleek, she felt like she'd just rolled up from the gym.

She waved, then wove her way between the tables. She dropped a kiss on Stella's cheek - no harm in that, right? - and then settled in. "You look great. Really the cameras don't do you justice. Are we doing drinks first? You hungry?" She smiled wide, trying to still the stomach flutters and put aside unhelpful thoughts.

[alex 🐺]

s t e l l a ; 

The atmosphere in the room changed and Stella knew that her date had arrived. As if everyone had sucked in a breath and was holding it, waiting for her to pass before exhaling, the din and the chatter fell silent as Ex strode over to her. A lion stalking her prey. A white dress clinging to every curve as if it was made for her (and it had been, obviously). Her heels clacked with every step like the sound of a whip cracking and Stella licked her lips, her mouth going dry.

She half rose as Ex came closer to the table, dropping a kiss on her cheek that burned burned and what the fuck was Stella doing here thinking that she had a chance with her? Her heart pounded in her ears as she grasped Ex’s arm during the hello, the air in the room thin and she knew she was going to be sick.

Sitting back down and steadying her breath, Stella pushed some bangs out her face before smiling at her dinner partner across the table. Heads were turning away from them in the restaurant but if Stella thought she had been in a microscope during the Games, the lens was even stronger now. She was in their territory now. She would always be in their territory. As much as the Capitol was a new home away from home, she would always be the girl from Twelve who had lived when several others deserving more had perished in a frozen wasteland. There was no redemption from that.

She smiled, her cheeks pulling and the skin feeling false. The fake face she was given after surviving Aeson’s fire and Raven’s attacks still did not feel right, but she was alive, she was whole. She was here. And completely silent in the face of the gorgeous human in front of her.

"You look great. Really the cameras don't do you justice. Are we doing drinks first? You hungry?"

”Yes, to all of the above. ” A shy smile, but the dancer would not fall victim to those beautiful blue eyes. ”This isn’t a working dinner is it? Or is it always work for you?” An eyebrow raised, courtesy of her stylist who was very happy to not have to worry about black circles underneath her eyes anymore. The wonders of a good night’s rest were never lost on the young blonde.

“Anything of interest I should know about? Or is that need to know?”

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

EX OH VAN DER WOODSEN

As soon as Stella agreed to drinks, Ex Oh waved over the waiter and ordered a glass of the house white. Normally she'd get a martini, especially given the circumstances, but she wanted to stay sharper than gin would allow. "This isn’t a working dinner is it? Or is it always work for you?”

"No," she said, batting a hand as the waiter walked away with their order. And then, she thought the better of it. "Well, it doesn't have to be. I can turn it off, if you'd like?" with great concentration, Ex Oh turned down the wattage of her smile, forced herself to look only at Stella, rather than secreting glances at the other patrons, at the busy street just outside their window.

"Anything of interest I should know about? Or is that need to know?”

Ex Oh lifted an eyebrow just so. She could take it as a challenge; did Stella want her to be the Blogger or did she want her to be her Date? Tricky, tricky. A buzzing hummed in her chest. "Quells' always stoke the city to near fever pitch mania. So much secrecy, so many possibilities. But this one's probably no different from the others. They're just a little behind on some announcements. And either way," she said, dropping her voice a pitch and letting her hand reach across the table, "I'm sure you're safe."

She offered a genuine smile as she turned a question over twice in her mind. She shouldn't ask it, but if she didn't, it would be all she thought about the rest of the evening, and she would much prefer to contemplate Stella's soft dimples and resilient spirit. "Unless you've heard something...?"

[alex 🐺]

s t e l l a ; 

Stella is way in over her head. She can’t fall to pieces just because Ex is here, with her, on what appears to be a date. It could all be a ruse. She’s a damn Victor for Ripred’s sake. Swallowing back the nerves and ordering a champagne to celebrate the night, Stella fidgets with her dress, pulling it lower on her thighs, before glancing back at Ex, her mind a whirlwind.

"No. Well, it doesn't have to be. I can turn it off, if you'd like?” The words are spoken in a whisper, barely loud enough for Stella to hear and she wants to scoop them up and let them trickle through her fingers. They are fine, like grains of sand and she wants to wrap herself in the feeling of Ex’s eyes on her all night long.

"Quells' always stoke the city to near fever pitch mania. So much secrecy, so many possibilities. But this one's probably no different from the others. They're just a little behind on some announcements. And either way...I'm sure you're safe."

The movement of her hand is accompanied by a swoop, low in Stella’s stomach, that leaves a warmth behind it. They aren’t sitting close enough, this table a canyon between them and Ex’s hand a lifeline, a tether to the other side. She leans in closer, her hand moving towards the blonde’s and she wishes they were closer. Stella’s head spins and she forgets to breathe. The softness of her skin is intoxicating.

“Unless you've heard something...?" Ex questions.

And there’s something in her tone that leaves Stella aching. The urge to shove the table aside and grab the other woman by the waist. To press their lips together and try to piece herself back together with Ex’s mouth. To mend the shattered edges of her heart. Misguided and foolish. Rash and ill-advised. The heady thought of it enough to convince Stella that she may not need the alcohol if she can stand to be in Ex’s presence for the rest of the evening.

A smile from Stella and she laces her hand with Ex, simple silver rings adorning her fingers that were littered with scars nearly two years ago. Unblemished now, but the memory strong like a phantom limb.

”Nothing more than idle chatter from the stylists and escorts regarding the twist. I’m certainly far from being the President’s favorite and that position merits little gossip that makes its way to my ears.” A breath and Stella grows bolder, her fingers tracing lines on the back of Ex's hand. 

“Tell me something no one knows about you. Something raw. Visceral. Real. I’ll return the favor.” An eyebrow raised at the hint of a challenge. Ex would never turn down a nugget of truth from the mouth of a Victor. Even if it meant showing her cards.