believe me or not [cass]

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

This was weird. She never thought she would already be here after all. Annie hadn’t imagined in a million years that she would already bring someone home. The sight of watching him strike down the boy from six would always play in her mind, but he needed to go in order for Beck to stay, and for that, Annie would not blame him. There was already so much Beck was probably going through, and not everyone could be “lucky” like Annie.

She hated that word. She was not lucky, or privileged, or even deserving of what she had received when she swung that sword into Bette’s face. If she had died in the arena, she would have wanted to stay dead. The capitol had something else in mind though, and they resurrected every last tribute that had fallen in that cursed place. Patched them up haphazardly and then sent them back to their families. They claimed it was a gift, but the amount of scaring that had been caused could never be masked by kindness, even if it was dipped in gold and shoved down their throats.

The capitol didn’t care though. They simply shook their hands of it, and tried to move onto the next games, where they would cover them in red again.

---

Getting off the train had been sort of awkward, seeing as Annie was just here a couple months ago to finally meet Ridley Le Roux in more than just passing. She had been the one to vanquish a Hailsham before, but this time, a Hailsham had rained supreme. It had always been weird, thinking about how different Beck and Noel had been from Bell and Cole. Beck and Noel had been gentle, but fierce in their convictions while Bell and Cole had been unhinged by the arena. Annie tried to avoid questions about Bell for that reason, because that finale had mirrored hers so much, but Annie was not like Bell, and those questions had always been the ones that got Annie the most.

Did people really think that Annie was a cold blooded killer? Even as she apologized for doing what she had to do to go home? Even when she screamed “Im sorry…” as she threw the first of many knives at Denali? Even when she sliced Bette down to the ground to claim the crown for herself? At the end of the day, Annie was a victor, even if she did not have the same outcome that people had grown to know over the years. Yes, Annie did get the lucky draw, but she would not wish any of this on any other victor. At least they could find ways to remember that the people they killed were dead and gone.

Annie had to live with the reminder that many of them were still alive.

And well.

---

She sat through the ceremony as they replayed the recap video for everyone in One to watch. Annie knew that she would have some time to get away from the crowds when Beck would do his exhibition for the people of One. Annie had no clue what he would show off for them, but she didn’t care quite honestly. Annie had already been through the ether here, and as much as she wanted to guide Beck, she couldn’t hold his hand forever. Besides, she had no clue what it was like to hold an axe. Throwing knives had always been her bread and butter.

People still talked about her knife skills, even as she walked around One to get some fresh air. She remembered that this district had always revered victors as celebrities. After all, many of them aspired to win the crown just like she had. They always asked her to do an exhibition when she was here, but Annie had gotten used to declining after the second visit here. She wasn’t always here for the sake of district one. Especially not when she was seeing Bette Sublino. They could go watch her games from the past if they wanted to watch her form when it came to throwing knives. She always found a way to hit her mark with ease, and that was probably what the careers were focused on.

Annie couldn’t even explain it to them if she tried. After all, when she was throwing them, she was thinking about how much she wanted to sink one right in between her fathers eyes.

Or right in one.

---

After dodging a couple careers that had almost cornered her, she found herself back at the justice building. She had been here recently, so she already knew the way to the terrace that looked out over the district. Beck had been going through the motions of what it meant to be a victor, and Annie could now sit back for a moment and just watch it all unfold until the mandatory dinner in Beck’s honor. Annie always hated that part of the night, seeing as it was like they were celebrating the death of someone else for them to be there.

Hers was even more awkward because Bette Sublino had to sit across from her, and look her right in the face.

She threw up later that night as soon as she got into the train.

But right now, she was sitting back and taking the sight in. She could admit that one had always been a scenic district, ethereal and white, two things that Annie would never call four. She always liked to stay for the sunsets when she was here. They were always breathtaking.

She realized that someone had a newspaper in hand, and the cover read “Victor gets her first win and doesn’t deserve it”. She peered closer and noticed that there was a picture of her at the peacekeeper ball spliced with a picture of Nico Throne right next to it. She rolled her eyes, not even wanting to know what had been said in the article. One of these days, they would see eye to eye, but for now Annie knew the stay clear. It was just easier that way.

”Gotta love a good smear article.” Annie shook her head as she spoke to the person with the newspaper. ”They couldn’t even get my side of the story huh?” Annie seemed disappointed for a moment, but she tried to bite her tongue. Usually, she would have went running to the bar, but she had been trying to cut the drinking for the tour unless she was behind closed doors. She needed to put herself together for Beck’s sake after all.

She couldn’t be messy all the time.

[cass]

o p a l .

"Here, I'll forgive my thoughts now
Steer it, 'cause I forget the dots now
Was it all any more faded after all?"

She'd only been back a few days and it was chaos. A mess of ten-hour days at the training centre teaching different fighting tactics and survival tactics to all the kids that were forced to be there, as well as the eager faced angry looking kids who couldn’t wait to get into the Arena. She wasn’t allowed to try and dissuade them, she was there to teach, a figurehead of the Capitol’s and District’s glory that would do exactly as she was told. Night had always fallen by the time she was free, covered in sweat and short of temper, she would make her way back home, cook some food, and go to bed. There was no time to talk to Ky, and most of the time he was either not in the house or busy talking to someone on the phone.

Rinse and repeat, and before she knew it the sun was rising on a weekend and she was sitting at the edge of her bed thinking that she was too fucking old for this. Little time was spent within the confines of the garden downstairs and the plants were feeling the neglect. Over the past week she’d ripped up three dying tomato plants that hadn’t received enough water, they’d grown to use to her precise and endless attention that they were literally dying without it.

When she hoped that she’d have enough free time on her hands to spend doing the things she wanted she was proved wrong. Reminded by a letter every week of the tasks she had to fulfill and the goals the Capitol wanted to be met by the time the next games came around. They were thorough, demanding that she learn and read up on every single victor she had ignored since she had dropped off the face of Panem ten years ago.

With an annoyed scowl she tossed the article onto a growing stack beside her, she’d been reading aside about Anatalia Morrisen the victor of the 80th quell. Those games had been a nightmare, plastered all over the television as they revealed that every single tribute was in fact alive and returning home to their districts. Miracle, they’d said, a gift from the President to his loyal districts. She’d rolled her eyes at the commentary, there was no miracle in returning twenty-four battered, beaten and emotionally damaged children back to their families. It was a literal train wreck coming back and Opal had briefly spoken to Justice regarding the situation but had tried her best to keep herself out of it.

And here it was, coming right back to hit her in the face.

The next article wasn’t much more impressive, but it was the most recent one, and therefore the last one she had to get through before she moved onto the next victor on her list. The slander was awful and fell into the category of lies she had ignored as best she could. She had heard the careers whisper about the fake victor from District Four, claiming that she couldn’t really be a victor if she hadn't killed anyone. What was worse, was that she had heard from Justice that some of the other victors had been giving her a hard time because of it. Mace had made her always believe that the Victors should be a team, a group of survivors who should have each other's backs. It was shameful to hear such things.

“Gotta love me a good smear article,” Opal looked up to see none other than Anatalia Morrisen standing in front of her. She hadn’t been expecting anyone to come back into the Justice Building once Beck had made his arrival. After his congratulatory ceremony they were supposed to have a feast and dance, and Opal had believed she would get a reprieve from the madness for just a few hours before she was forced to mingle. “They couldn’t even get my side of the story, huh?”

The victor continued as Opal closed the paper placing it onto the table. “They enjoy attacking any weak spot they think they can get to,” she waved at the empty chair beside her, asking Anatalia to join her. “It’s a game for them, they’re trying to hurt you, I won’t tell you to ignore it, there’s no point in saying that.” She offered the younger victor a reassuring smile, “it just takes time, trust me, I’ve been there, you’ll get through this.” They all had.

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

She tried to not think about it.

She really did, but she always failed at it. Maybe it was because she had a complex about everything that involved the capitol. A holier than thou attitude that seemed to creep out of the most uncomfortable times. She was under a lot of stress. She knew that, it was clear to everyone else as well. She had been so young and she had already had one of her mentee’s come out of the games. She shouldn’t have been surprised. The Hailshams had always been fierce competition, even though Bell was the only one to make it far last games. This time, Noel and Beck had both proven that they were willing and able to do what it needed to survive. Annie knew that feeling all too well as well, seeing as she did what she had to do in order to make it out. A sword to Bette’s face, a knife ravaging Denali’s side, watching the boy from two die right next to her, and Angel’s pristine look as the life force left his body.

Annie had been through so much, and she still was not okay. She never would be, and that was something that she was going to have to accept about herself. She hated the idea of trying to get help, but people had always tried to offer it to her, even when she openly said she did not want it. Quest Hertz was one of those examples. The peacekeepers ball had always been something that came to Annie’s mind when she was stressed. She had run into so many that she didn’t want to see personally, but Quest saying that she was willing to listen to Annie’s story and try to help her, really took the cake. She did not want hers, or anyone’s help, because she knew that would just infer pity on her. She wanted no ones pity, or condolences, especially because she was always seen as the lucky one. The one that got to walk out of the arena with a clean conscious. Little did everyone know, she would never be clean.

She would always have those scars.

---

That’s why she never got her hand fully replaced, because she wanted her own physical reminder of what she had to do in order to get where she was now. Not only that, she felt like it added a bit of character to her, and while the prosthetic she had looked completely natural, there were many days where she opted to not wear it. She wanted to throw out this conceived notion that she was miss perfect. She did not stride into the arena with gold plated skin and an urge to kill. She walked in a girl that just wanted to get out of her situation. If her name wasn’t called, she would have volunteered. She hated her father. She hated everything about him. She knew that if she didn’t take the chance and just jump off the deep end, then she was going suffer at the hands of him forever.

She could not face that.

And she lost a hand, and then lost a good amount of blood, and then her sanity many times. She made it out of a lot of fights intact, but Hellion had always taken a majority of the hits for her. She knew she owed a lot to that girl, because without her, Annie would’ve succumbed to some sort of barrage of attacks. Annie had always been skilled and agile and over all, just prepared to go into the games, but that did not mean that she would survive them. Preparing for the games and being in the games had always been two different beasts, and Annie could not manage to tame both of them.

She would love to meet the person that could.

---

That’s why that article was triggering her, because of course, another victor had to put in their two cents. She knew that Nico Throne would never see things the way that she had, and that was something that she was starting to get used too. One day they might be able to at least be in the same room without threatening each other, but until then, Annie always knew to keep her distance. It was best for all parties involved, especially because Nico always had a tendency to cause a scene, and Annie had always been trying to find ways to blend into the crowd. Of course, it was always hard to blend in when you had an invisible crown that everyone could see. Annie couldn’t hide it even if she tried. She could rip it from her scalp and throw it in the abyss and it would always reappear. She would never be free from the title of victor, and so it was always best for her to find a way to live with it, just like Nico, and Kass, and every other victor that had followed in her footsteps.

She, however, would always be the lucky one. The one that got to see everyone she killed come back to life. The one that walks the streets with ”no guilt”. She would always roll her eyes at the articles she read about herself. They were all so ridiculous. Some even claimed that she begged snow to have mercy on them, like Annie somehow had an effect the quell twist. It was hard for her to ignore it, even when people told her too. Annie was not the type of person to take something sitting down after all. She would fight as much as she could, and she would leave a wake of blood and tears, because that was the type of person she was raised to be.

Not the person that she became.

---

And that’s when she heard a voice behind the paper. It came down, and to her surprise, it had been Opal Shore, victor of the 64th Hunger Games. Annie had been quite surprised to see her here, but then again, she knew that Justice Fray and Ridley Le Roux had been the most recent victors of One, so they always had to do the leg work now. ”Tell me about it.” Annie said as she was ushered to sit next to her. She obliged, seeing as it seemed like there was no ill will between them, after all, she did have to kill Bette Sublino to be here, even though Bette had been walking around alive and well. Four and One had been even after Ridley’s triumph over Bell. However, she had a feeling that it would happen again, and again, and Annie would always have to sit on the edge of her seat. ”I just wish they would let me keep a bandied over the wound long enough before it was ripped off.” Annie shook her head as she tried to give a light smile.

”I cant heal if they keep sticking their knives in places they have never been too.” Annie looked at the article before looking back at Opal. ”Well, that and the fact that Nico Throne still walks and breathes.” Annie resisted the urge to cross her arms in defiance. After all, the person sitting across from her had not been the enemy. She reminded her of Katelyn, and how kind she had been to her.

That’s what she yearned for right now.

Kindness.

[cass]

o p a l .

"Here, I'll forgive my thoughts now
Steer it, 'cause I forget the dots now
Was it all any more faded after all?"

She could remember clearly the sorts of things that had caught the Capitol’s attention with her short-lived romance, marriage and relationship to Potato. They had dragged her name through the gravel, she was a victor, a career from a prestigious family tarnishing her crown and name by being with a man from district eleven. It had been the face of the news since the day the cameras had glimpsed her meeting him in district eleven, and then again when she had seen him during the drought.

The headlines had changed as quick as a snap of the finer once his name had been reaped. From calling for her head as a disappointment to her name, to reveling in her suffering. Lovers meeting a tragic fate, oh how the world could be so cruel to two young ones just trying to be in love. How they plastered his face over every page they could, how they sang his woes when he was murdered. Suddenly he wasn’t a nobody, but rather a piece of history they could shape to fit whatever narrative they desired.

They had ruled her life, from his death, to her pregnancy. She knew the destruction they could reap, but she also knew better than anyone that no matter what they said you had to shake it off. She would never preach to just let it go, after all she had let their words twist her and hurt her, for a long time after Potato had died. It had taken her four years to move beyond her suffering and try and begin to embrace the life she had created. It had taken to years after that to move beyond it and leave it all behind her.

”There’s not much to say, they attack and attack, tearing into your self worth, and make you feel as if you’re worth nothing.” Opal looked at the piles of paper in front of her, listening as Anatalia spoke. It was true that you couldn’t heal if the wounds just kept being reopened. But you also couldn’t heal if you stood in the way of the knife each time. At some point you had to remove yourself from the equation, simply let the knife swing and swing with nothing for it to strike.

Nico Throne, the name was one of the more unfamiliar ones. He was the next name on her list for reviewing, and she had a collection of articles the Capitol had indicated she read. She took them all with a grain of salt, and rather used them as means to gain a small understanding of the victors game and history. She had seen a few articles, like the one she had just put down that had Nico’s face and name on display. She had no real understanding of the anger that seemed to almost linger on Anatalia’s face as she mentioned his name.

It was a mighty aggressive comment to be making about a person. There was history there. Opal frowned, looking at Antalia with a curious expression. “I’m still catching up, as you can see,” Opal gestured to the piles of paper in front of her, “I’m not yet familiar with Nico Thorne.” Judging by the younger victor's reaction towards Nico, Opal could make a few guesses as to what the tension was between them. She assumed, based on the article staring her in the face, that Nico was one of the victors bitter about Anatalia’s win.

Opal’s reasoning didn’t explain why Anatalia wanted him dead. “If you want to talk about it, I’m a good listener. One of the perks of getting older.” She gave the girl a gentle smile, she would not push, but instead leave it as an open invitation that could be refused or accepted.

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

She still hasnt quite gotten over the amount of hatred she felt for certain people. One of them was Nico Throne. Another one was Cassius, a man that she knew one day she would literally stab. However, she had been pretty good about holding her tongue when she had to be around him. After all, he was the head peacekeeper of the district, which meant that she did have to be just a little bit tactful. She was lucky, in some aspects, to be a victor, because that meant that she could get away with a bit more than a regular person could. The capitol still owned her, but the capitol would do anything to be seen in a favorable light, and that gave Annie just a bit more of a reason to retaliate if he came near. However, she was good at running from her problems, and Cassius was one of those that she had become a master at.

But considering her audience right now, did that matter? She had only heard things of the victor before her eyes. That she had resurfaced recently. That she had a bit of a bad reputation because she did not mingle with other victors often. That she spent a long while away from the limelight that the capitol offered. However, Annie was still new to all of this, and she still didnt know how to shut herself away from all of this bull. She was envious of Opal for that. Opal Shore had found a way to beat the system, and while Annie wished and prayed that one day, she could walk away from it all too, she would always be considered the girl who would live in infamy. Her games would be remembered until the end of time, and she knew that. It crushed her spirit from time to time, and there had always been a direct correlation to her rise in drinking when this topic plagued her thoughts. She didnt want to be known as the girl who got the "free ride" to being a victor. There was nothing free about it. She had to kill to get to where she was, and the fact that the quell twist wasnt announced until after wasnt something that she could have predicted.

She did almost murder Glamour Kinkade after all.

But even with murderous intent, most of the victors still had opinions about her that she did not share. Nico Throne had always been the most vocal about her dislike, which caused heated debates almost every time they were in public together. She was not going to sit there and let someone try to invalidate her, tell her that what she did was for funsies. Whatever Nico thought about her, she thought he could go sit on, because at the end of the day, taking a life wasnt easy, and she still did it. Maybe if he had been reaped a games earlier, he would see it from her point of view, but he wasnt. He hadnt been fortunate enough to go into a special games like Annie had, and she did feel sorry for him in that respect. However, it would always be regretted every time he had opened up his mouth.

Their feud would probably last until the day they died, and who was Annie to get in the middle of that?

"I love being subjected to slaughter." Annie looked away for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts as she realized that Opal was probably right. She knew well that she couldnt stand in the way of the blade forever, but her problem would always be different. At least, that is how she thought about it. No matter how much she wanted to leave, or escape, or whatever someone wanted to call it, she would always be pulled back in. Annie would always be the most prolific victor for years to come, and as much as she could leave the spotlight, that didnt mean people wouldnt talk about her, especially after Beck coming home and people now heralding Annie as the perfect mentor. She had read that a lot of the capitol thought that she was doing a great job as a mentor given her last two tributes had done very well for themselves. Bell from the 83rd, and Beck and Noel from the 84th had gone through the fire, and Annie wished the latter would have both made it out, however, that would never happen in this lifetime. Annie already got that type of chance.

"There is a lot there to read." Annie said with a small smile as she thumbed through a couple of the pieces that had been laid out on the table. "Lots of different experiences for sure." Annie pressed her hands together and twiddled her thumbs as Opal mentioned not knowing Nico Throne. Hes a walking, talking, monster, but you didnt hear that from me. She thought to herself. She still didnt know how to be tactful when it came to that boy, and it was clear that he didnt know how to be either. She wondered if there would ever be a time when they might see eye to eye. They were victors after all, and while they had vastly different experiences in the arena, Nico being most tributes punching bag, and Annie being a factor in at least 7 tributes deaths, claiming three for herself. There had to be some sort of middle ground. Annie knew well though that there wasnt and it was silly of her to think there would be. It would be a miracle before they would ever get along.

And Annie didnt believe in miracles.

Opal had offered her ears to Annie, which was a little weird to her if she was being honest with herself, seeing as they did not know much about each other except for what was public record. However, in this moment, they were equals in a way. Two career ladies that had survived the travesties that the capitol had subjected them too. "Sometimes I find that I waste too much breath on that boy..." she said solemnly before trying to force a smile on her face. "I guess I dont do a very good job of that now do I?" Annie asked as she let her chin rest on her hands as they were clasped together. It had never been easy for her to get used to the things that people say about her. "Sometimes I think it would be easier if I could just escape the public eye for a little while and just exist... ya know?" she looked at Opal for a moment before shaking her head. "Sorry, Im sure you hear that all the time dont you?" Annie paused before pushing some hair out of her face.

Would she ever be free.