delly

Delly Cartwright. Twenty-Two. District Twelve.

[perfectaches]

Thea has never been a people person, but that's only increased tenfold since her time in isolation. Where she was once cold to strangers, she is now downright rude, and the nurses that care for her have been getting the brunt of her irritation. She's completely prepared to unleash it onto this particularly chipper one, but once she introduces herself, Thea can't help but pause. “Twelve.” Instantly, her mind shifts to Peeta, whom she hasn’t seen since their time together in purgatory. Does this girl know him? If so, she pities her almost as much as she pities Katniss — Thea had watched with the rest of them how Peeta had gone from the sweet boy they all saw win the Games through sheer will, to a ravenous version of himself. It broke her heart, knowing all too well how it feels to lose parts of your mind without the ability to stop it, but there was something different about Peeta’s descent into madness — something much more terrifying. 

Truth be told, she wants badly to ask how he’s doing, but to ask this young woman might be to bring up something painful for her and even Thea isn’t that socially unaware. So she simply nods, smiling just the slightest bit (although truthfully, it’s more of a grimace than anything.) “I'm alright. Well — am I allowed water yet?” For days, they’ve had her on nothing but ice chips and parentarel nutrition, but slowly Thea is gaining back her strength and hopefully she’ll even be given solid foods soon enough. “My mouth is always so dry. I think it must be the medicine.” Her mouth is dry, her eyes are heavy and her head is foggy in a way that’s reminiscent of how she’d feel when the Capitol used to pump her full of anti-depressants— a feeling Thea despises. But she tries not to take it out on this poor nurse, even if bitterness laces her tone. “Do you know anything about when I’ll be discharged?”

[dellcartwrights]

Delly noticed the way that the nurses shot her a look when she approached Thea. She had gotten quite the reputation in the medical ward with the way that she spoke to the nurses. But Delly didn't blame her. After everything that she had been through...everything that all of the captives had gone through...they deserved to react however they wanted to. And there was nothing that Thea could say that was worse than spending time with her best friend whom she didn't recognize anymore. And it wasn't Peeta's fault. It was the Capitol's fault. They had turned Peeta into something unrecognizable and Delly wasn't going to stop until she found a way to fix him. Thea Ellis could tell her to go away, could call her anything that she wanted and it wouldn't feel nearly as terrible as watching Peeta. Delly had thought that things would be better when they rescued Peeta but nothing could have prepared her for what they rescued.

She offered Thea a small smile in return for her own attempt to smile. What had Delly done that the other nurses hadn't? But she certainly wasn't going to complain about it. "You are in luck they signed off for you to have water this morning," She informed Thea. "Would you like it sort of cold or mostly room temperature? There aren't a lot of options," Delly told her softly, glancing around to make sure nobody heard her comment. "I think that that's normal, but it sounds terrible. I'm sorry," Delly apologized, even though she wasn't the one giving the medicine, and the medicine was for Thea's own good they said. She shook her head. "I'm not really a nurse so they don't tell me much. I'm just a volunteer. I like to stay busy," she explained. Especially now, she didn't add but she wanted to. Thea had been there with Peeta. Did she know what they had done to him?

[fatefought]

what goddamn conversation is this ? the boy's closest friend simply came here to yell at him, it seems. doesn't really matter what he has to say, does it ? it's a far cry from the handful of interactions abernathy and cartwright had after the star-crossed lovers' got out of the arena. it was a time where haymitch understood how alone peeta mellark truly was. outside of the tense bonds within his family and the care of delly, not many people saw him. eventually, the boy and girl made up a bit. that added some more faces around peeta's place, but not much. he's alone too now, haymitch is sure. the question is whether the short bastard of a president will kill him quickly or torment the blond like he wants to savor the flavor. so the young person is justified in her frustration. when you corner a feral animal though ... how can you expect it to go down quietly ?

" looks like ya made up ya'r mind already, sweetheart, " he responds very condescendingly. there's an eye roll as he moves to sit on the hospital bed within his designated room. " maybe ya are right and i'm just some no good liar. " he says with almost a flair of amusement. he isn't amused though ; he also will be the first to note that he's no good. there's a forced smile on his lips. there's both a pained sadness as well as an anger to it. there's no drink to sweeten his bitter language and the daggers that follow. " maybe ya just don't know the boy as well as ya thought. either way ... 'hwat are ya doin' here ? "

[dellcartwrights]

What did Delly want from Haymitch? She didn't know. Maybe she was looking for someone that missed Peeta as much as she did. Maybe she wanted to make someone else feel bad to take away some of the pain she was feeling. But that wasn't how Delly was. For a moment she felt like she was watching herself from somewhere else and she couldn't quite believe that she was treating another person like this. More tears fell, but more so from the guilt she was suddenly feeling. Maybe Haymitch was right and things with Peeta hadn't been the same since his win. Maybe he hadn't told her things, probably to protect her, but still all the same there were things she didn't know and she didn't want to have to face that. Delly had treated Haymitch with respect before because he was important to Peeta. What would Peeta say if he saw her now?

But still, even with the guilt she was still angry. But was that anger really at Haymitch, or was it at the people who had left him behind? Was that Haymitch that did that or was it someone else? She felt lost and afraid and she didn't know what to do to make it better. How could she make it better? "I don't know," she finally admitted, looking up to meet Haymitch's eyes. "I just...I miss him and I'm scared. I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you...I just...I don't know what to do."

[fatefought]

eyeline darts over to the bunk beside his own. he remains laying, nonchalant like this was some sort of summer camp situation. there had been moments where he had considering seeking out wiress, blight, and aspen barros. the latter had appeared particularly shaken by the broadcast. the young woman was a citizen of twelve. the likelihood of her knowing the mockingjay's husband was plausible, especially when the humble population had already been low prior to any attack coriolanus snow initiated towards it. the risk of stampeding seemed high with the mixture of prepared natives of thirteen intermingled with shaken refugees. perhaps that's why no seeking is done. there will be time to acknowledge how people are doing after clearance is given. the same thought is directed to the aforementioned victors. wiress likely is mixed with the weaponry division while thatcher must be preoccupied with his nephew. at least, latier assumes that must be the case for both.

" you hadn't awoken me. or likely anyone for the matter, there's much going on, " he says comfortingly. it's warm, for him, even if rather curt. straggler flood lights remain shining throughout the bunker. while many rebels are soundly asleep, others saunter or chatter softly. all of it is rather overstimulating to beetee, who is used to sleeping in a routine manner. " there hasn't been a disturbance for about two hours now. the odds of safety has increased in our favor, " he adds. the theorized thought that they'll return to the upper floors in the morning seems more and more likely. the young woman must be shaken by the bombings, he presumes.

[dellcartwrights]

Even though the other's response was matter-of-fact and not particularly comforting, it was a comfort to realize that she probably wasn't bothering anybody. Delly knew how difficult this was for everyone, especially the former refugees from Twelve and she didn't want to make it worse. She wondered where Katniss and her family were stationed and how she was doing. Was she struggling as much as Delly was? She could only imagine that she was. Maybe more than Delly. It was hard to ignore that Peeta was suffering after tonight. He had warned them about the attack and she just knew that President Snow wasn't going to be happy about that. What was going to happen to him? Would they finally rescue him and the others now? It was so frustrating, not knowing what they were thinking or why they were waiting. Why weren't they treating this more seriously?

"That's true. I didn't think about it that way, thank you," she replied, offering a smile even though it was dark. Dirk shifted in his sleep and she immediately glanced at him, worried that she was going to wake him up. He had finally fallen asleep and she didn't want to wake him up. "I hope so. I'm just...worried that they're trying to lull us into a false sense of security or something, you know? I wouldn't put it past them." Delly sighed. "I'm Delly, by the way. From Twelve. Are you from Thirteen?"

[ander-aurelius]

Growing up in Thirteen, Ander felt far removed from the other districts. Their struggles may have be similar, but they never quite aligned. In a sense, it was almost easier to pretend that they didn’t exist. As a child he wanted nothing more than to venture to the surface and to feel the sun on his face, but it had been a privilege to not live under the cruelty of the peacekeepers and the threat of losing everything in the Games. He could not imagine what the girl beside him had endured, and how difficult it must have been to try and start over after everything. She really was living his worst nightmare, and yet she had stll found the ability to laugh and joke with him. Ander was amazed by her strength and character. 

“Ander.” He introduced himself gently, offering her a warm and friendly smile. He hoped it would ease the tension, even if just a little. “It’s nice to meet you, Delly. Though…Maybe it would have been nicer outside the bunker.” 

Still seated, he turned his body to face her, such that his back was no longer against the wall of the cavern, but instead facing the open space. It was difficult to see her in the dim light, but Ander could still make out the tears falling from her lashes. He wished there was something more he could do, something he could offer her instead of small talk and some kind of mild reassurance that things were going to be alright. Then again, sometimes all someone needed was a moment of distraction, a respite from the pain, so maybe it was possible he wasn’t as useless as he felt. 

“That I am,” Ander answered. “Thirteen born and raised. It wasn’t as bad as it may sound, I promise.” Though there had been times when he wished for more, they’d always had the necessities. He was fortunate, far more so than some of the refugees he’d met. “I take it you’re not?”

[dellcartwrights]

It was hard for Delly to imagine growing up in Thirteen. Sure, they had been relatively safe from the Capitol, they hadn't grown up fearing Reaping Days, and they hadn't starved, but Delly couldn't imagine growing up here. Most citizens in Twelve had it hard, especially those who grew up in the Seam, but Delly hadn't been one of those people. She realized her privilege in growing up as a merchant, not a coal worker. But she still missed her home. She missed the sun and her home. She missed walking into the different shops in the town square and growing fresh fruit and vegetables in their small garden beside their home.

"It's nice to meet you too," she replied. She laughed a little at his comment. "I don't know, it's pretty nice down here," she joked, glancing around the bunker. It was strange that he saw this bunker as different from the rest of Thirteen.

The bombs falling had seemingly stopped, but Delly wasn't sure that she trusted it yet. Was this going to be the rest of her life? Getting evacuated from the top of Thirteen to this bunker as the Capitol bombed them? Delly wasn't sure that Dirk was going to be able to handle that. He was too young to have to continue going through this cycle. It made her angry, and it made her hate the Capitol even more. And then she thought of Peeta...poor Peeta. They needed to save him.

At his words, she felt her cheeks turn pink. She didn't want him to think that she was ungrateful for everything Thirteen had done. "Oh, I don't want you to think...it um, I'm sure it was a lovely place to grow up." She paused and then shook her head. "I'm from Twelve."

[mechanicms]

Aaryan was usually on his own, or awkwardly sitting at an empty seat along a table of quiet, contemplative District 13 citizens. It made him realize how different he was being from 3, a well-off district compared to most, and how unaware of an uprising he'd been. Other districts truly suffered and he faced that every single day down here.

Made him grateful, but he didn't want to be using the suffering of others as some kind of morality beacon.

Pulled out of his thoughts by a new voice, Ryan looked up, immediately smiling at the girl. "Yeah, please, 'course. I was just getting lost in the beauty of my porridge," he teased, setting his fork down. He never starved in 13, but he'd never had a full belly like being back home. It was JUST enough.

He could really go for a cupcake, or second breakfast.

"I'm Aaryan — Ryan. From 3, originally. Now I'm a hallway wandering vagrant."

[dellcartwrights]

Delly smiled back when he said she could sit down. "Thanks," she replied, taking a seat across from him. She glanced down at her own porridge. Delly missed her mother's cooking. She had accepted that nothing was ever going to be as good as it, especially in Thirteen where most of the food was bland. She worked in the kitchen enough to know that they didn't have much to work with.

"Yeah, you get used to it," Delly mused, glancing at him. Was he new to Thirteen, she wondered. He had to be with a comment like that. The first wave of refugees had already gotten used to it. "At least that's what they say. There are still some things that are...interesting."

She took a bite of her porridge, wishing that there was a little bit of cinnamon on the top. That was how her mother made it.

[dellcartwrights]

Location: District 12 cafeteria, day 67 @mechanicms

It wasn't often that Delly made it through the line for her lunch and didn't know where to sit. Usually, she could find Katniss or Gale or someone else from Twelve to sit with. She had been making friends in Thirteen. But it seemed that today all of the usual people that she shared meals with were missing, and for a moment she hesitated. She didn't mind sitting by herself if she had to, but with everything that was going on, she didn't quite like being left alone with her thoughts.

She slowly walked through the rows of tables, noticing that even her usual table was full when she spotted another person sitting seemingly by themselves. Delly didn't recognize them, but that didn't really mean anything, new people were tunneling into District Thirteen all the time.

Making a decision, she walked over to his table. Maybe he wanted some company too. "Hi, do you mind if I sit here?"

[dellcartwrights]

Location: District 13 medical ward, day 67 @perfectaches

Somehow it had been a week since the rescue mission rescued Peeta and the other captives, and yet it felt like a lifetime all while feeling like no time had passed at all. She had spent two months thinking about how the rescue would go and how incredible it would feel to have Peeta back to them.

But that wasn't what happened. She didn't recognize the Peeta that had been returned to them, and it scared her. For the first time, Delly truly understood the rebellion. They had killed her parents, but she still hadn't really understood it. Not until they returned Peeta. He wasn't even a shell of his former self and it scared her.

She wasn't going to give up on him, but it helped to keep busy and she arrived to the medical ward after dinner for a shift helping out. Delly spotted Thea Ellis, another one of the captives, and made her way over to her.

"Hi, Ms. Ellis. I'm Delly. I'm from District Twelve, but we're in Thirteen now. Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?"

[fatefought]

the control room had one of the largest viewing devices in district thirteen. it's a direct contrast to the mentality pushed within the underground district of minimalism. of course, where latier had his level of expertise, not even coin spared an expense. the weaponry and technology used amongst the militaristic regime seems out of frame to the otherwise simpler living in thirteen. and perhaps that's why the relatively small village of people continue to thrive.

beetee was in a unique position for it all. peeta's wide eyed terror and notification of attack was blown up in sizing much larger than the living, breathing victor. his wife notices peeta has carefully strung up a warning for the rebels. it's something that unhinged persona wouldn't appear trustworthy in nature. at least, according to several in the room. even after the fact, he has continued hearing hushed grumblings about the blond. but given the capitol's pension for intense violence against people of the districts, even a potential, false warning was better to follow through with than merely hoping for the best. it's simple odds, truly. even naysayers should be cognizant of such.

it must be bittersweet for the mockingjay. people are more inclined to be favorable of her spouse here in thirteen ; beetee has utilized many, capitol tools in the past and he confidently can remark that peeta mellark's punishment will be astronomic. it's irony that he finds himself assigned the bunk next to the captive's best friend. and as much as the star-crossed lovers' story had had been broadcast, latier had missed the segments on delly cartwright. " no - i don't work in medicine, " he responds matter of factly.

[dellcartwrights]

How was Delly supposed to sleep when she knew that Peeta was probably being hurt for warning them? She hadn't even really had time to process his interview and the look in his eyes before everything had happened and they had been sent even farther below ground. Delly had spent countless nights agonizing over what they might be doing to Peeta and tonight was no different. In fact...it was far worse than it had been. That was always what happened after an interview.

How much longer could she go on like this? She barely slept, and when she did she had nightmares of her parents and Peeta, and when she didn't have nightmares Dirk did. He had started acting out lately and Delly had no idea what to do. She was so incredibly in over her head and she missed her parents. She missed the way that they would take care of everything and the way that her mother always seemed to know what Dirk or herself needed before they even asked. Things had been tense with her mom, but Delly knew that she loved her. She knew that her mom would protect her. She still didn't understand why they hadn't gone with Gale that day. If they had...things would have been different.

But things weren't different. Even though she was surrounded by the entirety of District Thirteen she had never felt so alone. Peeta was probably being tortured right now, and Dirk was finally asleep. The tears didn't seem to want to stop even as her body stopped shaking. The voice out of the darkness had sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. But she did feel bad for potentially waking them up with her sobs. "Oh. Right. Good. I um...I'm sorry if I woke you up. I'll try to be quieter."

[ander-aurelius]

Bombing drills were relatively common in District 13; citizens practiced filing down, down, down the dusty old stairs and into the very bunker they were all crammed into now. It was far from Ander's first time, then, but it was no less unsettling, especially with the incessant trembling of the world around them as bombs continued to hit. If he were this shaken, he could not imagine the fear some of the refugees must have been facing, especially those who had just watched their lives turn to ash at the hands of the Capitol.

The night crept on slowly, and though the strikes had slowed, Ander could feel the buzz of anxiety lingering amongst the crowd (but perhaps it was just him). Many had been fortunate enough to find sleep, but he had been far from being so lucky. Unable to keep himself still, he resorted to taking a quiet lap around the perimeter, running his hand against the rough granite walls which coated his finger tips in a fine layer of dust.

He didn't know the girl in the corner, but as he stumbled upon her and her shaking frame, Ander felt his heart constrict. She must have been one of the refugees from 12. Whatever pain she must have been fighting, it was too great for him to even begin to imagine. Still, he wanted to help, and despite not knowing the girl, he came to a stop beside her.

"Oh, I'm not a medic," Ander answered with a sharp exhale, almost like a laugh. "My brother's the doctor. I don't think you'd want my help in any kind of crisis." He took a seat next to her, ensuring to leave enough space between them. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel claustrophobic. "But it kind of seems like you might need some company?"

[dellcartwrights]

It had all officially become too much for Delly. She desperately missed her father and the way that he would wrap his arms around her and make her feel like things would be okay. It was what he had done after she had left the Justice Building after saying her goodbyes to Peeta. She had walked into their home above their shop and collapsed into her father's arms where she had cried for hours so sure that she was going to lose Peeta. She had been wrong, she had gotten him back.

Until he was gone again. What was the Capitol doing to him right now? He had risked his life to warn them and he had just been abandoned by everyone. It wasn't fair. Why hadn't they tried harder to get him and the other captives? She had spent enough time with the Whitvale children to know that they missed their mother. Why hadn't more been done to protect the people that Snow had taken? Why was President Coin allowing them to be held instead of going in to get them?

Delly didn't think that she could take much more of this all. She was being strong for Dirk's sake, but who was being strong for her? It would have been easier with Peeta by her side. Everything was always easier when Peeta was there. She wanted to believe that they were going to go in and rescue them soon but she had long lost hope that they would fix things.

The voice belonged to someone who looked vaguely familiar to her, but in the dark, it was hard to place him. She didn't mind when he sat down next to her, and despite the tears falling down her face, she laughed. "It's okay you don't want my help in a crisis either. Obviously." She reached up to wipe at the tears on her face. "I don't mind. I'm Delly," she introduced. "Are you from Thirteen?"

[fatefought]

the boy's friend is crying now. haymitch would rather she took after the girl. sharp tongues, claws, fangs, boots ... were an easier weapons to fight against. waterworks make abernathy uncomfortable beyond words. there's only a handful of emotions he can deal with, when he pushes down most of his in the pursuit of peace in the form numbness. ( he thinks he's numb but he's angry most of the time. )

" nobody was pickin' anyone. they were both meant to get 'ere. shit fell through. there's no conspiracy 'ere. " except there was in a way. haymitch and certainly others in thirteen would want peeta mellark around. he isn't the mockingjay though. there's always gonna be a preference.

the way the boy's friend talks though, it makes the old mentor think about the boy. the two men had come to an agreement over the seventy-fourth games. that doesn't mean that haymitch wasn't aware of the betrayal the boy felt. that doesn't mean that abernathy didn't regularly switch between guilt and being tired of somehow being the bad guy in all that. ( he's the bad guy in many other things, he can relent. ) haymitch isn't the only person on the former district twelve team capable of being manipulative. " it's funny. y'all were so close but the boy conveniently never told ya the games were 'is idea. gotta wonder why that all is. "

[dellcartwrights]

Haymitch could tell her that there was no conspiracy until he was out of breath and she still wouldn't believe him. It wasn't anything against Katniss, but Delly had watched as Peeta was left for dead for days. She had watched her best friend get sicker and sicker all the while Haymitch sent Katniss things. She had been willing to overlook it that first time. She hadn't judged because she knew nothing about being a mentor. She knew nothing about how the games really worked.

But now Peeta had been left behind again. What else was she supposed to believe? "I don't believe you," she retorted, her eyes narrowing. "You left him to die before, Haymitch! I watched you let him almost die that time. Don't you realize that? I saw everything! You sent things to Katniss but never Peeta. You can say that you weren't picking sides but you did! You picked her!"

Delly froze, though, when Haymitch spoke again. It's funny. Y'all were so close but the boy conveniently never told ya the games were 'is idea.' What was Haymitch talking about? Delly knew that there were things that Peeta never told her and she never asked but she knew Peeta. If it was really important he would tell her. Haymitch was lying. He wanted to get out of this conversation, he didn't want her there. He would say whatever he had to to get her to stop. And yet...Peeta had come back different. Who was to say he hadn't told her everything? "Yo-you're lying," Delly faltered, tear stains on her cheeks as she looked at him. "You're trying to get out of trouble. Peeta...Peeta would've told me."

[dellcartwrights]

Location: District 13 bunker, middle of the night Open

Delly had barely any time to react to Peeta's very obvious deterioration before the air raid siren had gone off, and she had to run through the halls of Thirteen looking for Dirk. This couldn't be happening again. They couldn't be bombing Thirteen the way that they had bombed Twelve. The only difference was this time she could protect Dirk, and she would protect Dirk. She couldn't always leave it up to Gale. Delly had found Dirk in their room, cowering in a corner, and it had taken everything in her to not break down in that moment and to get them both down to the bunker.

The first hit had startled her and sent Dirk scrambling under his bunk. Delly spent the next few hours calming him down and trying to not let herself fall apart either. Dirk couldn't see her like that. It wouldn't help anything.

It wasn't until things got quiet, the strikes farther apart, to the point that Delly thought that they were through, and Dirk was asleep that she got up to stretch her legs. They had long fallen asleep, and she was unsteady on her feet as she managed to wander among the people to find a somewhat empty corner where she collapsed and buried her face in her knees as the tears came. She cried for her mom, her dad, Peeta, and her brother. When were they going to get Peeta back? How much longer could he take the Capitol's torture?

Delly nearly jumped when she felt a presence next to her. The "I'm fine!" came without even thinking. And then she paused. "No, I'm not," she admitted, tears in her eyes. "But I'm not hurt, so you can just...I'm sure there's hurt people or someone else that you need to tend to."

[incaensio]

the idea of delly cartwright stealing some food for her is absurd, and katniss finds it not so difficult to smile at that. she's never gotten charity from a merchant — until the bread — but delly had once claimed herself as a bit wild in some sense, though not rebellious, yet that is almost the word katniss can atribute to her now. "ain't you gonna get in trouble for that?" for a rebel district, thirteen is quite strict, after all. plus, she's had her share of head injuries to know they are usually accompanied by an annoying bout of nausea, so she must keep her meals light for a while. "maybe a roll." it is not a demand, of course, but it's a small thing to look forward to.

"ah, y'didn't have'to." katniss could make light of the situation — it is definitely the course she intends to take when she's taken to the control room, so coin won't berate her for going against command and haymitch's voice in her ear — but this is hardly a moment for that. her leg is going to heal, her head will be its normal degree of messed up in no time, but what about the hundred and so that have become ashes under the bombs of the capitol? katniss closes her eyes, and she can still see their faces and the way of destruction. she swallows, and looks up at delly again. "y'do plenty." she's seen the other's arm now and then, always filled to the brim with roles she did perform. there's never soldier training, however. katniss wonders how long can delly push that, or if she's helpful enough around to never need to hold a weapon (for her sake, katniss hopes that's true). "you'd be good at helpin' people around. refugee to refugee." homeless to homeless, she manages to bite back.

a furrow grows in between her brows at the other's reassurance about her (former?) groupie. "her grandfather killed your parents." it's a low shot. katniss has been told several times that cordelia snow is not of the same cloth as coriolanus, but it's hard to get past that the capitolite wanders free while others are being hurt back in the capitol. "she's got no complainin' rights." no, she should be locked up, at the very least, like the people from two were, but they've given her no saying, and she hadn't thought that was a fight worth having during her demands. killing her grandfather will be enough, katniss tells herself. it's always an oddly comforting thought, snow's murder. killing takes something from you, and katniss has enough nightmares about those whose blood she's shed, but killing snow would bring peace to this world, perhaps even for herself.

she's just slurped her last morsel of soup when caesar begins speaking, redirecting her attention from the plastic bowl to the screen. oh. katniss can tell delly is calling her name, but she can not hear anything right now — the noise that the tray and the bowl makes as they fall to the floor is muffled — and she can barely feel the sharp sting of her wrapped up leg as she swings her limbs so she's sitting sideways on the bed, eyes glued to the screen. the silver maps out peeta's features on the holo, noticing how sharper his face has become, how dark his eyebags have gotten, how erratic his gaze is; she can't tell if he is dressed to appear glorious (they've switched his boyish bow ties for a tighter tie) or just to accentuate how bad he looks, almost like a corpse packed into a pine coffin (the one he could have been a year ago, had she not gone mad and brought him home with her). "they're starvin' him." she knows starvation first hand so she can tell. it's not as severe yet, but it's too fast, and peeta has always been thick framed — she's spent months being comforted by how he had grown even healthier after the games, and now, all that is gone.

it almost seems like he is, too. it's been a mistake to drink the soup because she feels the nausea at her throat as peeta watches her propo, the proof that his attempts of defending her are feeble. this is the first time he's seen her in a month — had he thought her dead? certainly he would have worried, done all that he could to protect her, as he always had, as she is trying to do for him. is that the thanks he gets? she tries to breathe, but it hitches as a sob escapes her mouth; she can taste her tears, and she hates it, almost as much as she hates snow, coin, caesar and, most of all, herself.

[dellcartwrights]

Delly was sure that if she got caught she would find herself in trouble, but if she said she was stealing for the Mockingjay? She thought that they would look the other way. Would they even care, though? Delly had so many jobs in Thirteen, they didn't really question her very often, they just assumed that she was on her way to a different job. "Maybe, but if I tell them it's for you, I think they'd probably look the other way. And besides I'm always so busy they don't usually ask questions when I do something," she shrugged. "I can probably do a roll, that's easy enough."

It was funny, how Katniss worded that, like her worrying about Katniss was a choice, rather than something that you did when you were friends with someone. "I know, but I always worry when you guys go out into the field...I can't really help it, you know? Friends do that," she teased. It was still a little bit scary whenever she referred to them as friends. She was still afraid that Katniss might reject her, although she did think that they were friends now. Delly smiled. "I do a lot, don't I?" It was her coping method, whether that was healthy or not. Delly worried that if she really let herself stop and think then she was going to break down again. She couldn't allow herself to break down, there was too much to do. "Do you think they're going to be brought here?" She asked Katniss. Would Eight be brought to Thirteen the way that Twelve had? Or...at least the survivors, that is.

She had already mentally prepared herself for Katniss bringing up her parents, but it still did hurt, the way that it hurt every time she remembered that they were gone. Sometimes she woke up and forgot that they were dead, only to be hit with a wall of grief the moment she took in her surroundings and everything came rushing in. "I know, but she's nothing like her grandfather. She's nice, Katniss. And we shouldn't hold it against her that she's a Snow. Cora didn't decide to bomb Twelve. She can't help who her family is." Delly didn't think that any of them could complain about anything. Thirteen had taken them all in when they didn't have to.

Delly was hit with a mix of grief, shock, horror, and fear as she watched Peeta on that stage. He wasn't okay. It hadn't been that long that he had been taken captive...and yet he had lost so much weight, and there was something in his eyes that Delly didn't recognize. That scared her the most. Being friends with someone as long as Delly and Peeta had been meant that Delly was very familiar with Peeta's moods, and expressions, the way that he carried himself. But there was something about him that had changed, although she couldn't quite figure out what it was. She had forgotten that Katniss was beside her, and it wasn't until Katniss spoke that she found herself looking at Katniss. It hurt more to have her acknowledge that they were starving Peeta. What else were they doing to him? Why did he look like that?

"Katniss," she whispered, her eyes wide. "Katniss...we need to save him." It was the same thing that she had said to Gale after his first interview. Tears streamed down her face as she watched the interview, desperately wanting it to stop, but also never wanting it to. At least for this moment, she knew that Peeta was alive, but once the cameras were off...Delly refused to finish that thought. "What are they doing to him?"

[fatefought]

they say some people wear their heart on their sleeve. was that delly cartwright ? well, she at least wore them on her mug. confusion ... loss ... anger, they flash on bambi-like features. they say more than she does, though her words hold accusations like thumbtacks to a wall. in the moment, what grounds abernathy is his own chipped nails digging into the skin of his palms. he was suppose to be your responsibility. well no shit, nobody is letting him forget that. ( at least the people that actually matter won't. )

" goddamn it's like ya don't even listen, " he huffs with a breath that would make one think he was completely exhausted. haymitch isn't ... at least not on a physical sense. " i told ya, the boy was supposed to be on a hover. somethin' happened and he didn't get on. " eye contact isn't broken when he states it again, as though that will suddenly make peeta's best friend listen. " ya wanna use my classified phone to get all the details i know ? go ahead, it's right there ! " left arm gestures cruelly to the empty wall before them.

[dellcartwrights]

It wasn't Haymitch's fault. Deep down, Delly knew he couldn't control what had happened in the Capitol. But feelings that Delly had long pushed down about Haymitch Abernathy after the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games had come up to the surface again. The anger that she had felt during the Games towards Haymitch, as she and her now dead friends, had watched Peeta dying on the Games while Haymitch sent gifts to Katniss. It had been so obvious to them that Haymitch had picked Katniss. He had been willing to let Peeta die at Katniss's expense. And now...now it had happened again. Peeta was left for dead again and Katniss was here.

Why did Haymitch keep picking Katniss and leaving Peeta in the dust?

Unable to stop herself, the tears started to fall as Haymitch spoke. He wasn't even really yelling, but it all hit her. It was like watching the games all over again and losing Peeta again all over. Except this time there were no cameras to prepare her for losing her best friend. Just a big question. "Why couldn't you pick Peeta this time?" She finally asked him, her voice small. "You always pick Katniss, why is it never Peeta?"

[fatefought]

they're not drastically different in age. at least they aren't when it came to assuming a guardianship over younger siblings. her parents were gone by the time yazmin was eight. they were shuffled to an orphanage. ten years later, she left with kamran in tow. did the headmistress see silverhorn like the woman from six sees delly now ?

it's hard not to feel for the young woman. " you know, people don't give children enough credit, " she begins. there's a brief hesitation. is unwarranted advice tactless right now ? " you can withhold things from them, but they're perceptive. they can often feel when something is wrong, even if it's unspoken. " tongue becomes bitten though. yazmin does not state that the little boy will likely not view her differently for it. she's already felt remorseful over the blatant overstepping. ( all she can do is offer the advice that a young her wished someone would have clued her in on. )

friendly smile lines her lips however as delly offers her assistance. " maybe we can go with the sweet potato ? it's probably been a while since some of them have had some fresh vegetables, " she remarks while already grabbing a small pile. six stack nicely. " it still blows my mind they have a garden in thirteen. "

[dellcartwrights]

Delly was completely overwhelmed by the mere thought that she was going to be in charge of Dirk from now on, that she had to step up into that parenting role. She knew that there were kids from the Seam who were put into that position, but Delly had never imagined herself being put into that position. How was she supposed to be enough for him? How was she supposed to take care of him? She barely felt capable of caring for herself, some days.

Yazmin's voice took her out of her thoughts, and she was grateful for the distraction. Even though they barely knew each other, she already trusted Yazmin. "You're not wrong," she agreed, a sad smile on her lips. "I think...it's probably dumb to think that I can hide anything from him. He was there, you know? When it happened. I...I wasn't." It was a hard pill to swallow for Delly that Dirk had gone through that alone. That she hadn't been there with him when the bombing happened. It was probably stupid to think that she should hide anything from him. "I just...I don't want to make things worse."

"The sweet potatoes are a good choice," Delly agreed, glad that she could put her mind to something else. "There's a lot that you can do with them to make them taste good, too," she pointed out. She was already growing used to the bland food of Thirteen. "I know, it's kind of...crazy, isn't it? Everything. I don't know...how they managed all of this."

[vengefvlx]

Cadence just raised an eyebrow. Was Delly really trying to use that excuse with her? Had she not listened to Cadence when she'd been telling her about Clove. Yes, she felt bad for Gale and all that he had been through. But he wasn't the only person to have had someone he loved go into the games, and at least his mother had come out. Cadie found it hard to be empathetic to someone that couldn't care less about what she'd been through. "It's been really hard for everyone lately. Nobody gets a pass to be a tosser." And she would say that about anyone.

Cadence didn't know too much about 12. Just that nobody had seen them as a threat until they had become a threat. They had been overlooked, by basically everyone. "Nobody saw 12 as a threat until it was too late..." She bit her lip, as she thought. "Equally the Capitol probably didn't think we'd all stand together and become a rebellion either...." They'd tried so hard to keep them all apart, to make them hate each other. It had worked, until now. Cadie was just hoping that all the Districts would come together. That was the only way that they would be able to succeed.

Cadie just shrugged. "They say hard things make you stronger, but they've just made me tired." It had. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She didn't know if she would change what had happened. Who knew what her life would be like if she hadn't won, if she hadn't been reaped. It might be just as bad as it was now. "I sometimes wonder if becoming a victor was worth it.... if things would've been better for my sister if I'd just died in my games.... she would probably still be alive if I had." Sure she'd have grown up in the orphanage, but she probably would never had wanted to volunteer, if she hadn't shown her the life of being a victor

[dellcartwrights]

Delly could see that her attempts to explain her thinking and Gale were not working. It wasn't even that she was trying to excuse him but to try to explain his behavior. Someone like Cadence would never understand someone like Gale, and even though Delly was trying to explain it, it wasn't working. "Of course not...I just..." she trailed off. "Never mind," she finally settled on saying, glancing down at the floor.

"We weren't a threat," Delly said softly. "My parents...they weren't a threat, my district wasn't a threat. Katniss and Peeta weren't threats, not until he made them," she said, frowning. None of them understood what it was like to be from Twelve. "My family may have been better off than the families in the Seam, but we weren't exactly plotting a rebellion in Twelve. We were all just...we were all just trying to survive." And now they were all gone.

"Yeah...I understand that," Delly agreed softly. She was exhausted, but she was also just barely keeping it together. She had to for her brother, but it was hard. Everything was just hard. "I don't know if it's productive to think like that. But...I don't know. You can't know how things would have turned out differently, you know?" Delly bit down on her lip. "I am sorry about what happened to your sister."

[incaensio]

the weight of the tray is one she welcomes warmly. "better now." her stomach agrees readily, grumbling at the sights and scents; it is almost a miser meal, however, liquid almost clear with some floating vegetables, a kind of thing she was used to consume only on the coldest months, even at twelve. of course, back home, before everything, she had a hearty health, and didn't have to stay at hospitals through several days, so this is probably as good as she will get for a moment. so she takes a spoonful, trying to focus on the salty taste, finding that the broth, albeit seemingly simple, has been at least well-spiced (she wonders if this is greasy sae's doing, or the man from two's, apparently the few people who knew how to douse taste into food, when they were allowed to, that is). katniss points to her leg, under the covers, with the spoon. "gonna walk again in a day or two. if they don't lock me here again for goin' out'a line." she kinda thinks they won't, if she is to consider the treatment she has received from natives, but it's best not to jinx it. "''ve met people in worse shape today." the great majority of eight may as well kill to just have a bad leg and a bad head right now.

she almost inhales half of the broth, and stops only because something is turning in her belly. could be because she's eaten too fast when it has been over twenty hours since her last meal, and all the drugs pumping in her body, or it's simply because delly has mentioned cora snow. her groupie always manages to leave a bad taste in her mouth, even worse so after they've arrived at thirteen, and she is there, the plainest capitolite yet the one who sticks out the most if only by her surname. "'could ask for you to transfer rooms, if y'want." if they don't reprimand her somehow for going off script and running into bombs and roofs, that's the least she could ask; katniss can barely look at the girl, so imagining herself rooming with the grandchild of the man who killed all her family is just impossible. katniss glances at the screen: the flaming propo has turned to ashes, tuning the tv to a capitolite ad instead, almost as if there is nothing else — the death of thousands — happening right now beyond the borders of the city.

[dellcartwrights]

Delly smiled. She glanced down at Katniss's meal, it was not much, but the doctor had mentioned something about starting Katniss off with something light and easy tonight. "I can sneak something in from the kitchen later if this isn't enough," Delly promised her, her voice soft. She probably would have gotten in trouble if she tried to do so, but if she said it was for Katniss, she figured that they would probably look the other way. What was the point of being the mockingjay if Katniss couldn't get something snuck out of the kitchen for her? Delly was glad that Katniss was mostly okay, that she had made it through the mission in Eight. "I'm glad that you're okay. I was really worried," Delly admitted. She couldn't imagine what it was like for Katniss, being there, among all of the bombing, and the fighting. "I wish I could do more to help them," Delly admitted. She had been horrified to see the images on the television, the bombing, and the horrible things that were happening in Eight.

She went quiet and let Katniss eat her soup, happy to just enjoy her company. Delly wished that Peeta was there to see them getting along. This was all that he wanted, for Delly and Katniss to get along, and to be friends. It was painful that he wasn't there to see this, and that their growing friendship came from Peeta missing. How was that fair? How was it fair that Delly was taken care of in Thirteen while Peeta was probably being tortured in the Capitol right now? Why hadn't they done anything to help him? Katniss's voice startled her, and she glanced over at her and shook her head. "It's okay, I don't mind it. Cora...she's not what I would have thought that she would be like. She's nice. Doesn't complain when Dirk has nightmares. I can't complain about her," Delly mused, glancing at Katniss.

But then something on the screen caught her eye, and she glanced over at it as the Capitol seal flashed on the screen. "I wonder what," she had started to say, but her words stopped when she saw Caesar. Which of the hostages were they going to interview this time? Cecelia Whitvale's interview had been particularly heartbreaking. But then he was there. Peeta. And he didn't look good. "Katniss," her voice was hoarse, her eyes wide as she took in her best friend. He was alive. But he looked different. Tears immediately pooled in her eyes.

[perfectaches]

"That'd be wonderful," she says, and the promise to put in a good word has Hazelle's features brightening exponentially though she knows it will only go so far. The damage done to her forearm is one thing, but her back being ripped to shreds is an entirely bigger bear that Hazelle's sure will at least have her staying put for the next few days. She appreciates Delly's optimism even if nothing will likely come of it — and she has to wonder if it's that very same optimism that made Gale feel the need to mention her. It's unlike her son to feed into anything so positive, especially lately when all he seems to want to do is brood, but Hazelle isn't exactly opposed to a little light finding his life. If it's in the form of this merchant girl who seems kind, who is she to knock his choices?

So she pushes her prejudice aside completely, settling back into her propped up pillows as she watches the girl mill around. There's a sort of nervousness that follows her, and of course the first thing she wonders is if that's got anything to do with her son. But there's a solemness that accompanies Delly's confirmation that her parents were in fact the ones who ran the shoe store in town, and Hazelle realizes that must mean they weren't able to accompany her to Thirteen. Uncomfortable, she clears her throat. "Your father once fixed the sole of my husband's work boot one day for just about nothin' in return. He'd have gone into the mines near barefoot that whole winter had your dad not helped out," she offers the little anecdote as a sort of peace treaty — a way to show that she doesn't think all townies are so bad, especially not those who help out people from the Seam when they really need it. And besides, Hazelle's well versed in loss by now. Any apologies for Delly's loss would be taken with grace, she's sure, but that isn't often what people who are grieving actually want to hear. She smiles again, attempting to move on. "How'd you get lucky enough to end up takin' care of little old me?"

[dellcartwrights]

It felt good to be able to do something for someone else, even if that something was probably not going to happen. She very much doubted that the doctors would listen to her, and she wasn't even sure that Hazelle should even be released yet considering what she went through, but if it gave her hope than she would do her best. Delly could only imagine that she probably wanted to be with her kids instead of in a hospital bed. "Of course, anything that I can do to help I'm happy to do it."

More like anything that gave her a distraction, she was happy to do. Wasn't that why she had thrown herself into life in Thirteen so quickly and had taken on so many tasks to try to keep her mind off of the horror that was around her? To distract herself from the grief over her parents, the loss of her home and friends, and that Peeta was missing? Delly was sure that Hazelle knew what had happened to Twelve, Gale probably told her, but whether she knew that most of the merchants were gone, she had no way of knowing. She was surprised when Hazelle started to talk, telling her an unexpected story about her father and the kindness that he had shown Hazelle's husband. A sad smile formed on her lips, even though she wanted nothing more than to cry. She couldn't do that though, not in the infirmary. "That sounds like my dad. He always wanted to help people out whenever he could. He was a really good man." Her parents sometimes argued about her father's acts of kindness, but she thought that deep down it was something her mother loved about him too. "Thank you for telling me that," Delly added, her voice soft, glancing down at her hands, toying with the sleeve of her shirt for a distraction. She was glad for the change in topic, though, when Hazelle asked how she got the job of taking care of her. "I think that they thought that a familiar face would help. I don't think...the doctors really understand what Twelve was really like. But I was glad that they asked me to check on you." Delly paused. "I was so happy to hear that you were here. That you um...that you're okay. I know...we don't know each other, but Gale and I...we um, we spent some time in the Capitol together...when Peeta and Katniss were um, doing their mentor duties. So I just was really happy that you're okay. I know this is probably really weird for you, so I'm sorry," Delly rambled on. Her cheeks suddenly burned, when she realized she had been rambling for a while. "Sorry," she apologized, sheepishly.