Swept Up [Gander / Althea blitz]

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

G A N D E R

Turmoil had come to the shores of panem, yet district four had remained relatively unmoved. Life on the island had yawned at the mention of unrest. They fixed their nets on the shores of the Rock. They rode the waves and brought their catch to port for trade. They’d still brought their children out into the waves for their ceremonies. Life went on just as it had five years since, with the changes being the births and deaths recorded in the leather bound register of the little shipyard office at the edge of the dock of their island.

When news finally came that Snow had died, Gander had seen his father smile for what seemed the first time in ages. There was whispering among the men and women as to what it would mean for their lives, and in particular, what it meant for the shipping route. They’d been afforded the protection of no interference, so long as they kept bringing their children to shore for the reaping. A new leader – or leaders – could compel the mayor to change.

And if there was one thing the islanders did not do well, it was just that.

Gander had been elected to speak for the island. Measured as he was, Gander had a way of smoothing over rough edges that some of the other islanders could not. He also spent time devouring what books they had available, putting him head and shoulders over some of the other men.

When he’d landed on the shores of four, it’d been to see Mayor Perch, and to once again gain her promise. That, and to see what she planned going forward, with the scent of the tide coming in for four. He stood when he saw her, hands across his chest, best attempt at a smile on his face.

“How’s you gettin’ on, I’s dropped round by and by tah sees yah ‘gain, Mer-yer Perch. Got me drove this election it does.”

elegant

[sbeeg]

Althea Lassandra Dials Perch

Althea stood on the dock watching the ship slip over the waves. At least she knew that as long as her conversation went well that she had the islanders' votes. The past five years had flown by and she felt like she was just here, waiting for Gander and his odd accent. She was just a former mayor's wife then, now she was an incumbent with five years of leadership under her belt.

Were they a productive five years? Althea wasn't so sure. She had such grand plans but once all the paperwork and red tape is thrown at you there is little you end up doing. She thought of Vasco from Eleven, about the real change that needed to come about.

Gander wouldn't want to hear about that. His people needed security, she could save the traitors talk for a harder vote to earn.

Gander stood up giving her a crooked smile. She returned it. He was a hard man to understand but easy to like. He had a comforting air about him. Maybe if things go south she can move out to their little island be as laid back as he is.

She nodded as he spoke and while she wasn't quite sure what "drove" meant she pushed along determined to understand.

"It's good to see you, Gander," Althea said and actually meant it. "I hope everything has been going well on the island. Know that with another term under me there will be no changes brought to your shores."

Althea wished she could put herself on an island and promise nothing would change. It'd be nice.

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

G A N D E R

Althea Perch had kept her word these past few years. He’d admittedly had his reservations about her over the man that’d run five years ago. Which was probably more to do with his father’s influence on what made a person fit to be a leader and less on Althea’s ability to lead. He’d also been lulled into the promise of friendship by Cove, but ultimately had come to the conclusion that leadership was far more important than sitting down to have a drink with someone.

She greeted him like an old comrade, and he returned it with a head nod. The last five years had been unremarkable, but he felt as though that was far better than some of the other districts had managed. Sailors spoke of explosions in six and fires in eleven. The worst they’d had were a few bad storms that had blown some roofs off the houses on their island, which was an easy enough fix (or not, if you just preferred to keep buckets out to catch the rainwater).

“So more it was,” Gander nodded again in agreement. “Kept yer word’n much obliged. ‘Cept…”

He furrowed his brow as the gears turned. “Snow stiff as a poker now, ‘n ‘spose means we gettin’ some-odd new, yeh?” That the one man who’d held Panem together died hadn’t brought a single moment of grief to the island, but it did have them wondering what the next five years would look like. “Feels tho we gotta new storm comin’, ‘n tah islanders don’t want tah be left out’n tah cold when it does.”

elegant

[sbeeg]

Althea Lassandra Dials Perch

Was Gander enunciating better or was she just getting better at understanding him? Either way Althea welcomed the new comfort she had in communicating with him and listened closely to his question. He was unsure, worried even.

With Snow gone there were a lot of threads left hanging. He'd been alive for so long that there was little to no idea of what to do to replace him.

"Listen Gander," Althea said, relaxing a little out of the usual stiff mayoral stance. "Snow may run the Capitol but I run Four. No one is going to come in and change how we live."

Truthfully, whoever took the helm after Snow probably wouldn't care about a tiny fishing island off the coast of four as long as the right number of children were reaped and fish was still on Capitol menus. She was sure Snow didn't care about the specific peoples of Four and that's why she had to. Althea kept up with the islands and the all the different sects of people who, just by the geography of Four, tended to be inclusive and separated.

"I'm going to make sure of it," she added, driving the point home. "Is there anything else the island is worried about. We've been spared from storms for a while, I hope that doesn't mean we're due for a big one."

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

G A N D E R

Gander wasn’t one to be greedy. Their lives were self-sufficient on the island. It was baked into their skin under the heat of the sun, and between the waves that crashed on the shore. An islander was expected to find their own way; it made them stronger to know what it was like to live alone, especially if they were stuck at sea by themselves. Then, when they’d returned they’d be even stronger together, with those who had his back but knew what it meant to go it alone.

Still, when Althea offered that the world wouldn’t come to threaten their shores, she didn’t stop there. She offered up something more, as though the island could have more of a voice than they’d ever had. He wasn’t sure what to say. His father had always advocated neutrality in any mainland affairs, and the rest of the islanders seemed disinterested in making their lives easier in exchange for anything they could offer.

But he was part of a newer generation, one that could see little bits and pieces on the island might’ve gotten better if they let in just a fraction of what the mainland had.

“Yah, sees you offer, obliged tah think we’s gotta better fleet, least wit ‘o engines going now and again. Trade’n more ‘n a bit than we do. N’ a doctor tah come tah us, now’n ‘gain.” He listed out a few priorities as though he’d appointed himself head of the Rock.

“Storms comin’, one way ‘r nudder.” He replied, voice low.

elegant

[sbeeg]

Althea Lassandra Dials Perch

Althea listened intently trying to make out his words. She shouldn't have offered more when the island wanted so little, but after he rattled off his list it was minimal at best. Better boats, which to the islanders could be anything sitting in the marina. They weren't exactly on the edge of cutting technology and Althea could definitely improve their quality of life. Push trade towards the island and send a doctor occasionally. Did the not have a doctor on the island? It never occurred to her that they wouldn't have the basic necessities. She hoped that her ignorance hadn't resulted in any deaths.

"Of course," Althea said nodding. "Anything that can help improve the lives of the citizens of the district."

She paused, pulling her coat closer around her shoulders. The wind off the ocean pulled at her hair, threatening to yank her off the dock.

"Take care of yourselves," she said in a rare moment of candor. "And if you need something, even if it's not around election time, now you're welcome at the office at any time."