cut down the competition . kiah
Sept 1, 2021 3:31:07 GMT -5
Post by cass on Sept 1, 2021 3:31:07 GMT -5
"Fuck a princess, I'm a king
Bow down and kiss on my ring
Being a bitch is my kink
What the fuck else did you think?"
Octavia Strauss was in a mood. That was nothing new, she was always in a bad mood. She sat down heavily, leaning back into her chair as she flicked through some paper she had been given. Everyone seemed to want to give her paper, they wanted her to read it, sign it, and action it. The problem was: they all wanted something from her. Octavia had never been one to give, she only took.
Ever since Blushing Eggplant had one the games two years ago, she’d been coming up empty. Yeah, his new title had been enough to keep her name in the papers for a year. But once the following comes had come and gone it had turned back into lingering disappointment. Another round of ‘it’s your fault’ or ‘why did some cunt from district six win’. Could they get off her back? Prior to the eggplant winning there had been no new victor in district two for well over a fucking decade. Not to mention the debacle and disgrace of her own fucking daughter dragging the Strauss name through the mud.
Fuck Meredith. Her brothers had done nothing but love the child, teach her how to fight and win and she had taken the tribute status and used it to insult the entire fucking district. Octavia had the last laugh; she’d been the one to knock Meredith’s grave over and bury some other kid in her place. She was sure her corpse was at the bottom of a river and long gone by now.
Octavia threw the paper behind her as Victor knocked on the door to her office. She waved him in before she stood and moved to the drink cart by her desk. To her displeasure most of the bottles were almost empty, she was sure she had had it restocked only a few days ago. She’d fire Jimmy for his blatant lack of work ethic.
”What do you want?” she asked, as she poured her own glass of whiskey.
”Vodka? Scotch? Whiskey?” Victor was a vodka man, he liked it to burn and fuck him fast. He might be strong, but his stamina had decreased with the wrinkles that had crowned his face. She poured him a glass of vodka before he could even respond, sliding it across her table and over to him.
”We have a problem,” fuck she could kill for a cigar right now. She’d had the last one this morning with her breakfast of tequila. Octavia sat back down in her chair, pressing her free hand to her temple, messaging the skin, the beginning of a headache sitting behind her eyes.
“We’ve got about two years before the next election. The drug idea has worked somewhat, but not well enough. Not enough of the shit at the bottom of the barrel has died. Maybe more addicts, but not enough deaths. We’ve had shit tribute after shit tribute. Shy fucking Eggplant is as useless a victor as a sack of potatoes. In fact,” she took a sip of her whiskey, it burned, “a sack of potatoes would be more charming than he is.”
She eyed her brother, knowing that he was all she had left to salvage the scraps of this dying district. “I’ve got plans for the drugs, might try and fuck one of the suppliers over and send him to the DC to get back into the good graces of the people. But, I need you to find out who is gonna be running against me.” Octavia paused, taking another sip, she had been thinking of how best to handle her upcoming rival. Direct was always best, tarnishing their names was too slow, too unpredictable.
“I want to kill them all. Every single motherfucker who is even thinking of competing against me. I want names, start gathering it now and getting rid of them one by one before it gets too close to the election.”
She downed the rest of her glass, “district two is mine.”