the core of our bones {d5 train blitz}

[rook]

PATRICIA

It feels so weird not being alone in this anymore. You can't count Lethe when she's barely shown her face in the seventeen years- no, eighteen years since I was Reaped. I've been doing this all on my own this whole time, and now, all so suddenly, I'm not alone.

Lysander's been distant with me ever since she came home. I suppose I'm not surprised, but I expected her to be more... explosive? I don't know, I guess I just thought she'd be mad at me in the way I was mad at Lethe for abandoning me and not giving me the help I needed. Instead, she's just been avoiding me, keeping herself to her family and friends, and barely giving me a second glance whenever I see her around the victor's village.

I can't say I blame her. She's processing all this in a very different way to me. I just need to give her time and space to come to terms with what's happened. In the meantime, however, there are two more unfortunate souls that I have to attempt to steer straight, like I tried to with Kenji. This year they aren't volunteers, which makes it easier for me to want to help them. I can have genuine sympathy, rather than have to try to talk sense into senseless, drunk volunteers.

I'm first to arrive in the tributes' carriage. No sign of Lysander, as of yet. I went straight to my own quarters after the Reaping, so Ripred knows where she is, but she better not pull a Lethe on me - else I'll make sure she wishes she died in that arena.

This year's two tributes look as shell-shocked as the countless others before them, and at this stage in my life, it's almost become routine for me.

"Okay, let's get to work." I stand across from them, leaning against the support column, "I'm Trish, and I'm here if you have any questions about any of this."

They always ask the same things, and my responses are usually similar. It's ironic that the one person I didn't help in all these years went on to survive. Maybe that's fate laughing at me, twisting the knife between my ribs. Maybe I'm not very good at this, maybe my advice is shit. Maybe it's just coincidence. I've been thinking about that a lot lately, but whatever the truth is, I have to try and help - I owe it to these kids. I owe it to the one girl I truly failed.

[Deleted]

c a l e b .

"you are weak
but not foolish
you have learned
how to die."

"Okay, let's get to work," great. 

A shitty death vacation and now I have to bring work with it. After letting Bambi go, I can't feel my hands; I can't feel anything. It's just been autopilot because I know she kept the only part of me that'll ever see the light of day of district five again, the rest of me is off to the blood letting. Blue little blinder still clutched in my hands, at some point through the day the plastic cover started peeling back and I'm pushing it back further the longer I sit in silence. It's all dobermen and angel wings and I'm pissed. 

I did everything right; that's what I can't stop thinking about. Arguably I was a good person I think, I stayed out of trouble, I never talked about the capitol or reapings. If the worst thing I ever did was be friends with Bambi Mae and her stupid dead sister, then they're killing me for some awful logic. All my life I've wanted a business talk with Patricia Valfierno and now it's here at this train table with a feast of fruit between us, and I hate it. 

Can I just skip to the end already? 

Lysander's not even here yet, she's all I have on the train and she won't show her face past a bottle of whiskey. I want to be mad -- I mean, honestly, I do, I'm kind of alarmed that I'm not. But I'm just tired already and it's still the morning. It's come and gone so quick, my last hour being alive, and I didn't even spend it right. If I knew I was coming here I would have prepared a bit more, brushed up on my facts or bring some eyeliner with me, I dunno. 

I look at Patricia, and I know I'm just another girl to her, I'm her girl for the year and that's my consolation prize. There's a lot of questions- a shit ton. Fifteen years of em, I spent the last two years just trying to get in contact for a damn business contract with this lady. I need a private conversation with her, away from Marsh; what questions does she want me to ask? 

At this point, I just want to ask why me and go take a nap. 

"When you have a minute, I have some questions about uhh," getting money from you? Hard to be business partners from the grave but hell, I'm smart, I'll figure it out. "Life. And Lysander." I lean over to put the binder between my feet, like it'll help stable everything out. 

Because at this point, I'm one harsh turn from falling apart. 

"Bur right now my only question is like, what the hell." Mama always told me to talk to adults with respect, and I guess that applies here but in light of recent events, I think I'll just talk how I want to. "And where the fuck-" okay, maybe I'm swearing a little too much. I've got it out before the cameras, y'know. Yeah, that sounds right. "-is Lysander?!"

elegant

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

They waste no time on rushing us into things that we did not agree with. Its painful, realizing that right now, in this moment, I will not have a chance to see my mother again. It tastes like vinegar, being poured straight down my throat. I can barely breath as she leaves the room and tells me that she believes I will come home.

But she was never good at being a future seeker.

And I know I mean this in a way that is not respectful. But she holds onto the past, and that is the greatest downfall I have ever experienced. I dont like to and wont hold onto the past, because it leads to heartbreak and I can honestly admit that I have had enough of it to last me two lifetimes over.

I wish there was a way I could forget.

But now I am here, and I am staring blankly into the void for a moment. Words from another bring me back, an older woman that states her name clearly to me. I wonder for a moment how many times she has avoided doing such a thing, because its almost unnatural.

And honestly, I hurt thinking about it.

But am I really in the position to turn down any sort of help? Even I know that cooking without a recipe will always lead to some sort of difficulty, and quite honestly, I knew this experience was going to be hard enough.

Why suffer any more than I am going too?

But Caleb asks questions first, and they have to do with Lysander. My lips pucker for a moment before realizing that there is no sour taste in my mouth.

Just a bitter one.

"Thanks." I say to Trish, "Whats the most common question you get Trish?" I dont even know why I am asking such a thing. Its not like she would think I cared.

And just to be clear.

I do.

But I also dont.

[gamemaker sloane ♕ kaяi ♕]

l y s a n d e r

"you are weak
but not foolish
you have learned
how to die."

It was my fault.

Just like Hyram always said, I was the one to blame. Even when it was something that had nothing to do with me, it was still somehow my problem. I was the cause of all his pain, as well as everybody else’s. It never made sense, I never quite understood it, but now I do. This time there were no questions asked.

It was all my fault.

Caleb Genesiss waited on the other side of those doors and I have no one to blame besides myself.

She had given me my token; she was Bambi’s best friend. Her name was not randomly picked from that bowl. They had warned me, the Capitol. They told me that if I dare even place a toe out of line that the one’s I care about would be punished. There weren’t many options for them to choose from, mostly everyone was disposable to me. Caleb’s name was a warning, a warning that Bambi would be next.

I swear I had been behaving. Ever since Caleb’s name was called, I’d been running every day since my crown was placed atop my head over and over again, looking for a mistake, even the smallest slip up. They had never been pleased that I won. I was supposed to die long before the finale, my second chance was meant to be futile, but I had won, my last breath stuck deep in my chest. They gave me the rules immediately, they let me know exactly where my place was, at the bottom. Every time I entered the Capitol they placed a glass in my hand and gave me the look. I was supposed to be drunk; I was meant to keep up the image. I was meant to forever be the girl who got lucky.

But they were sure to remind me just how unlucky I was.

This was the closest I’ve been to wanting to drink again. The two bottles in my hands were oh so tempting. All I had to do was go back to my room, open one of the bottles, lay down and hope to never wake back up again. But I couldn’t, not yet at least. Instead I exhaled deeply one last time and walked through the doors into the main cabin just as Caleb was finishing speaking.

”Where, the fuck is Lysander?”

The other boy sat there looking expectantly as Patricia, waiting for her help. I did my best not to snort, good luck getting any lifesaving advice from her. The two bottles in my hand grew heavier for some reason, but it was too late now. I placed the two on the table, one for the each of them, a bow tied neatly around the neck. They landed with an awkward clunk.

”This is how I made it through, hopefully it can help you too. Good luck.”

I couldn’t look at her, not even when she was just inches away. Because deep down I knew.
It was all my fault.

elegant

[rook]

PATRICIA

Where is Lysander? That's a terrific question. The girl, Caleb, puts it so eloquently that I almost think they could have been words straight out of my own mouth. She's right, and I find myself somewhat bemused that Lysander isn't chomping at the bit to mentor her first batch of Tributes. After all, what better an opportunity could she get to show my up than to prove herself a far better mentor than I ever was to her.

I mean, that's what I did to Lethe - and I did it so well that she's barely bothered to mentor since.

The boy seems less chaotic than Caleb, who can't seem to sit still and who blurts out all her emotions in blind panic. Marsh Deluca seems to have a more temperate nature, and he waits patiently for his district partner to finish her flush, before starting his own line of questioning.

"What's the most common question you get, Trish?" He asks.

I shrug, thinking back over the years of Tributes. Most were too shell-shocked to ask questions, let alone the right ones - and none survived, so I don't see how it even matters. As far as mentors go, I like to think I'm one of the more pro-active, but in terms of results I'm one of the worst. Hell, the one time I neglected someone they went and fucking won.

Pixie Ruined's words are ones that have probably stayed with me the longest, although that wasn't really a question so much as a drilling observation of my character.

I'm human and you are too, get over it.

Emotions run fast and sometimes kids say things they don't mean. Sometimes it's the only time they can say what they mean - when facing death. It depends on the person, and over the years whether it was Zeki or Tyler or Saxton, whether it was Nell Locke getting high, or Lysander getting blackout drunk last year, people cope with the shock of this differently. The questions, like the Tributes, are rarely the same.

"They ask: How do I survive? or What did you do to win?" I admit that's probably the most common thing asked, "And I wish the answer was straighfo-"

A loud clatter startles me, stopping me mid sentence. I spin around furiously to see Lysander clumsily setting down two large bottles of alcohol on the counter.

"This is how I made it through, hopefully it can help you too. Good luck." She slurs.

I can't fucking believe what I'm seeing. Is she for real right now? She shows up both late and drunk, and two terrified kids looking for solace have an alcoholic basically telling them to rely on dumb luck? She's making this alcoholic look like a fucking chump.

I could hit her. I could smack her dumb face and take the booze off her and tell her to sort herself out and not go down that path. I could drag her away from it and tell her exactly how her life is going to go if she carries on like this, because I've walked it, and it only ends one way.

But I don't. I let it stew inside of me, and with a scowl on my face I exercise some restraint. I turn my back to the tributes, moving closer to my fellow Victor and speaking in a hush voice.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" I say, moving closer to her ear, "These two kids need our help, and you show up in this state? Get your shit together for fuck's sake."