I Am Damaged

come join heather in hell

[heather-levesque-blog]

[heather-levesque-blog]

None the Wiser ‖ Heather and Cepheus

[heather-levesque-blog]

Heather raised an eyebrow at Cepheus when he turned back to look her, his jaw clenched as if he was holding back a scowl. Annoyance flashed in his eyes as they both made their way to the gates if their prison.

Heather paid him no mind, merely continuing to smooth down Kitty’s fur as she hissed violently at her companion. Regardless of their… grievances towards each other, they would still have to exit the grounds first before they could be rid of each other’s presence.

Her unruffled demeanour exhibited an aura of indifference towards Cepheus, however she couldn’t help the slight grit of her teeth. It seemed that Cepheus had made it his personal mission to pester her incessantly. And to have the audacity to be annoyed just by her mere presence, when he was the one who so rudely invaded her personal space in the first place. She hummed discontentedly.

Perhaps a trip to the nearby pastry shop was in order.

Slowing to a stop, she nuzzled Kitty sweetly before whistling a different two-note whistle. Go home. Kitty meowed in reply, butting her head against Heather affectionately. She jumped to the ground, pausing briefly to snarl a warning in Cepheus’s direction, before traipsing back home.

Her heart could melt from how adorable she was.

A breeze blew past, making her shiver in her coat. She shoved her hands into her pockets and walked briskly to the gates, eager for a cup of hot chocolate to ward off the bitter cold.

[heather-levesque-blog]

None the Wiser ‖ Heather and Cepheus

[heather-levesque-blog]

“… At least one of you is willing to express yourselves,” Cepheus muttered under his breath. Heather resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she brushed Kitty’s fur back fondly.

“Don’t tell me this is a coincidence,” Cepheus scoffed, “You must have been planning to ambush me.” Heather sighed through her nose as she turned away from him. She wondered how he managed to leave his house each day, with a head as big as his.

“Say, commander Heather,” remarked Cepheus as he walked around Heather, not unlike how a predator might approach its prey. Kitty hissed threateningly as Cepheus stopped right in front of Heather, blocking her path. Instinctively, she took a step back. Her expression hardened as she stared at Cepheus.

Undeterred, Cepheus continued. “What is your next strategy, following the tumble of your vanguard?” Heather pursed her lips. She was tempted to unleash Kitty’s wrath on the other Victor. His tone and movements were snake-like, even more so than usual.

His mouth quirked up in a smile. “Or I suppose your grin would tell me all.”

Heather quelled down the panic that had been building in her chest. Only joking. Only a joke. She forced her features to relax, trying to come across as more carefree than she felt. Shooting Cepheus a falsely sweet smile, she walked past him towards the iron gates.

[heather-levesque-blog]

Heather nodded and smiled in reply to Paisley’s thanks. She made to walk back to her own home, when a cat’s yowl pierced the air. The door to Heather’s house burst open, and a grey-and-white blur rushed out into the streets.

Three guesses as to who that was.

Heather smiled as Kitty came into view, padding along silently. Heather knelt down as best as she could in a dress, and Kitty took that as an invitation to leap into her owner’s arms. Meowing affectionately, she licked Heather’s face despite her protests. Satisfied with Heather’s appearance, Kitty turned to inspect her mistress’s companion. She cocked her head to one side as she took in the pretty lady. She recognised her, yes. She squirmed until Heather put her down. Cautiously, she made her way to Paisley, pawing at her shoes experimentally.

[heather-levesque-blog]

None the Wiser ‖ Heather and Cepheus

Heather woke up to Kitty meowing loudly in her ear. Groaning, she turned over, only to get a face full of fur. Seeing that her mistress was awake, Kitty climbed down the bed, and scampered off to find breakfast. Reluctantly, Heather sat up in bed, eyes squinting under the bright sunlight pouring in through her window.

Sighing, she dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs to the living room. Her stomach growled loudly despite last night’s substantial feast. Her mother smiled from where she sat reading on the couch, before pointing towards the metallic hole in the wall. She grimaced. Heather considered not getting her schedule just to spite Coin, but then she remembered that Coin was not above punishing misbehaving Victors. Grudgingly, she stuck her wrist in and waited impatiently as her schedule was inked onto her body.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she looked over her schedule. To her annoyance, it seemed that she was going to be interviewed by Caesar Flickerman tonight.

With Cepheus Dayne, no less.

She scowled, before reaching for her mom’s home-made bread. It was dark, crescent-shaped and sprinkled with seeds- just like the ones from home. The familiar savoury taste warmed her heart, lifting her mood a little. Unfortunately, she was still miffed that she had to be interviewed by Caesar again. Especially the day right after the Victor Party. She didn’t understand why Coin still wanted her to be interviewed. It wasn’t like she had anything to say. Still, disobeying Coin wasn’t exactly an option. The repercussions were not appealing, to say the least.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, she thought of the other person that would be at the interview. Cepheus Dayne… He was an alright dude, as long as he didn’t try to hit on her. Maybe having him as an interview buddy wouldn’t be too bad; he could do all the talking for her.

As she finished her bread, Kitty sauntered into the kitchen and began meowing impatiently, tapping incessantly at Heather’s feet. She smiled affectionately at her.

Kitty was a… rather weird cat. Unlike most cats, she liked going out of the house and running about the neighbourhood.

She whistled a simple two-note tune, the signal that they were going out for a walk. Kitty immediately turned and rushed out the front door. Grabbing a bottle of water, Heather chased after Kitty before the inquisitive cat could get herself into trouble.

They strolled down the main road leisurely, Kitty running forwards occasionally to inspect things along the road. A dead leaf, a fallen flower, a shiny wrapper. She pawed through them deliberately, before moving on to the next piece of trash. As they passed by a big mansion, Kitty perked up as a tall figure exited the building. Kitty hissed ferociously before pouncing after the one and only Cepheus Dayne. Heather barely managed to hold her back before she could claw his eyes out.

Kitty yelped and struggled in Heather’s arms, wanting a go at the suspicious man. She shushed and petted her fur soothingly, calming her down. As Kitty settled into her arms, Heather smirked smugly at Cepheus.

[genevievebeauchamp]

In the aftermath of the ball, Paisley knew she had a lot of work to do.  The Victor Ball had served as a way to get her name out there for the Capitolites and the rest of the fashion world.  Now she just needed to keep working hard.  She had to come up with new styles and innovations that would continually get her noticed, especially if some of the people she rubbed elbows with at the party decided to look into her career.  There had to be something to show for it.  Change had to be coming.  Despite knowing her mother wouldn’t approve of her position in the Capitol, she was still happy.  Soon it would be her time to shine and she knew it.

Walking back towards the Victor’s Village with her bag over her shoulder, she was oblivious to her surroundings.  At least that was the case until the handle on her bag tore and the fabric she had in the bag all spilled.  The breeze took some of it and she scrambled to get everything back in the bag as quickly as possible.  Already she knew it would have to be rewashed before she could start sewing.  Luckily, the fabric had been for her personal wardrobe and not anything specific for work.

Spotting movement out of the corner of her eye, Paisley shoved the fabric into her bag before wildly gesturing towards a piece that was trying to blow away.  “Can you grab that?  Please?”  Truth be told, she didn’t even care who she was talking to in that moment.  Her only concern was making sure that none of her fabric got away.  Wasting material was practically a sin in Paisley’s eyes.

[heather-levesque-blog]

“Miss Levesque?”

Heather opened her eyes slowly, reluctant to shift from her comfortable position. The chauffeur held the car door open as he waited patiently for the young Victor to take her leave. Heather yawned and stretched, cracking her stiff joints. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she grabbed her purse and left the car without so much a second glance.

She sighed as she stared at the wrought iron gates that led to the Victors’ Village.

Home sweet home.

She dragged her feet towards the small guardhouse that stood in front of the gates, its simple and sleek exterior juxtaposing the convoluted patterns that were interwoven into the design of the giant gate.

The humongous gate itself didn’t actually open. Its presence was more for aesthetic purposes, giving the settlement a quaint, rustic feel. Besides, Coin wouldn’t have built a gigantic exit for the very people she wanted to control.

Although she’d been through this process numerous times, Heather still couldn’t help the shiver that went down her spine as she was patted down for weapons. Anyone who entered the Victors’ Village had to be checked thoroughly before they were let in. In her official statement, Coin assured everyone that it was for the safety and well-being of the Victors. After all, it wouldn’t do leave the Victors unprotected, now would it?

It might’ve just been in her head, but it seemed that the Peacekeepers were always unnecessarily rough and, for lack of a better word, thorough with her.

After passing the body inspection and bag check, two Peacekeepers, one in front of her, one behind, led her through a small corridor and out into the small garden that decorated the other side of the entranceway. The Peacekeepers swiftly disappeared back into the guardhouse, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Heather made her way wearily towards the main road. The sooner she could reach her bed, the better. As her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she could make out a small figure in a dress walking in front of her. Suddenly, a strong breeze blew past, stealing various pieces of fabric from the figure’s bag. The woman immediately scrambled to retrieve her materials before the wind could blow them any further.

Heather jogged to her as fast as she could in her heels. Still shoving fabrics into her bag, she called out, “Can you grab that? Please?” as she gestured towards a stray piece. Heather quickly grabbed the offending piece of fabric and made her way back to the woman. When she looked up, Heather found herself face to face with Paisley Dressal, the daughter-friend(?) of the District 8 Victor, Zephyr Damask.

[heather-levesque-blog]

Kitty

One distinctive feature of District 11 was the large number of cats that roamed the streets. Though they moved freely, almost all of them had owners. It was not a surprising sight to see the people of 11 sharing their food, water and homes with them, despite being dirt-poor themselves. The cats more than made up for it though, by catching the vermin that would otherwise ruin their crops.

In District 11, cats were symbols of protection. Heather heard that a long time ago, people thought that a black cat crossing your path meant bad luck. She quickly dismissed that as outdated superstition. How could cats be bad luck? They ensured the survival of their crops and the safety of the children. As far as the people of 11 were concerned, they were indebted to the cats, hence it was their moral duty to care for them in return.

In fact, they took the symbolism even further.

Mothers and fathers would tuck their children into their beds at night, and as they drifted off to sleep, they would tell them heroic stories of famous cats, such as Tom the Cunning, who dedicated his entire life to chasing one mouse; Bast the Brave, who fought a giant snake to protect her children; and the most famous of them all, Crookshanks the Courageous, who caught and ate the evil mouse, Wormtail.

As their children grew older, parents would pass down the more mythical legends that surrounded the amazing creatures. In 11, cats were also believed to be the guardians of the underworld. Not only did the cats protect them from vermin and pests, they also protected them against malicious spirits, capturing them and sending them back to hell.

As did many children in Zone B, Heather owned a cat. It was her very own cat, though, of course, everyone in the family loved her. Her parents’ old tabby cat died when she was a baby, and they never got around to adopting a new one. Her sister was one of those weird kids who didn’t want a cat, and might actually have been slightly scared of them? To be fair, cats did tend to hiss at Phoebe when she was around. A few even managed to scratch her. In fact, Heather’s cat was pretty hostile towards Phoebe at first too, but over time they grew on each other and sometimes she even let Phoebe pet her.

Heather’s cat’s name was Kitty and she was the largest, cutest fluffball she had ever seen. With soft grey and white fur, and large eyes, Heather fell in love with her immediately. Unlike most children, she didn’t adopt her cat by picking one out from the streets and then begging their parents to keep it. Auntie Jennifer’s cat had given birth to little kittens, and because they couldn’t possibly raise more than one cat, she gave away the kittens as soon as they could live without their mother. And so Heather got Kitty as her 12th birthday present.

Heather actually cried the first time she held Kitty. She was so precious and innocent and vulnerable. In the midst of all the chaos, Kitty was her anchor. She symbolised a new start, a chance at a better life. During the darker times in the war, her family would sit on the floor with Kitty right in the middle, and play with her for a while to distract themselves from the horrors outside their windows.

Her mother told her that when she went to the Capitol for the Games, Kitty became extremely distraught, and lost a lot of weight because she wouldn’t eat. She would just pace around the house, meowing pathetically for her owner. One time, they couldn’t find her and spent half the night searching for her, only to find her buried deep in the covers of Heather’s bed. They let her be.

Their reunion was an incredibly emotional one. Kitty jumped into Heather’s arms the moment she saw her at the train station, and Heather immediately started crying. Then the rest of the family joined in, hugging each other tightly. Kitty meowed loudly as she licked the tears off her family’s faces, which made them laugh a little.

When they moved into their new house in Victor’s Village, Heather insisted that Kitty sleep with her at night. Sometimes, in the dead of the night, when the nightmares kept her awake, Heather would use her voice again, and sing softly into Kitty’s furry ears.

“Deep in the meadow…”

[heather-levesque-blog]

Food is Love, Food is Life// Open

[rhys-archer-deactivated20181112]

heather-levesque:

“Hey, accidents happen. No big deal,” said Rhys kindly,seeing Heather’s embarrassment. She nodded and gave Rhys a small smile, thoughit probably came across more like a grimace. She straightened up in her chair,attempting to make herself look more respectable.

“The croissants any good? I’ve been picking at the desserttable- can’t stay away from those chocolate-covered strawberries. And theselemon cakes,” he said lightly. Grinning a little sheepishly, he broke off apiece of cake and offered it to her. “Wanna try some?”

Heather smiled gratefully and reached out to accept thelemon cake. Just as the sweet cream glided over her tongue, Rhys’s eyes shiftedto look at something towards Heather’s left. Following his gaze, her eyeslanded on the man of the hour, Mercury Flatstar.

Dressed in a fitted suit, with his hair neat and combedback, he looked like any other regular eighteen year old. Though, he was alittle on the shorter side. And, well, only if regular eighteen year olds woreglamorous party outfits. Watching him shake hands and chat with the crowd, Heatherfelt a strange sort of kinship with him. Just two years prior, she was in thesame position, celebrating a victory that didn’t feel like one pretending tobe happy even though she was dying on the inside. Heather bit her lip. The twoof them, plus the Victor from the 79th Games, were the latestvictims of Coin’s sadistic rule. And there were still more to come.

Dread filled Heather’s stomach. She wondered if they were doomedto live like cattle on a farm forever, raised only to be slaughtered. ToHeather’s left, Rhys sighed heavily.

Just as he handed off the piece of lemon cake to Heather, Rhys heard a loud guffaw from his right, his gaze turning toward the sound. In the middle of a conversation with three loud, very drunk Capitolites was the familiar, thin frame of Mercury. He had been looking for the newest Victor for a while, close to an hour since he last spotted him in the crowd. 

All of the Victors had been in Mercury’s spot: barely keeping their composure as they tried to put on their best smiles and shake hands with the very people that found their trauma entertaining. Even celebrated it with extravagant parties and replaying it on television for the past months up until the Victory Tour would finally end. And then the next year’s Games started and the cycle kept going. The wheel kept spinning round and round…

Mercury was barely keeping himself together, teetering on the edge of sanity and falling into a panic attack. Rhys had been there himself on plenty of occasions, even after so many years of mentoring and watching other Games. The newest Victors of Coin’s Games would be no different in that regard, especially if things continued the way they were.

“None of you deserved to go through what you did,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on Mercury. “Things were supposed to be different, Panem was supposed to be safer. No Hunger Games, no more tyranny. But here we are.” Coin’s resolve crumbled and she went from being a fair, level headed leader to Snow II. And Rhys helped her get there. 

Mercury had disappeared into the crowd once more, subjected to speak with more of the obnoxious Capitol citizens and accept empty congratulations. Rhys gave a shake of his head, turning his gaze toward Heather a moment. It may have been risky to talk of such things, but almost everyone’s attention was drawn to their own conversations, or to the newest Victor. Coin had ears everywhere and the last thing he wanted was to drag Heather, or any of the others, into any trouble for something he said. But he felt inclined to speak his mind, had to for the sake of his own sanity. 

“You all deserved better,” he finished, dark eyes averting their gaze again back toward the crowd. 

[heather-levesque-blog]

“You all deserved better,” said Rhys grimly as he watched Mercury.

Heather’s mouth twisted into a sour grimace at the mere thought of their back-stabbing president. Ugh. She was even more of a snake than Snow ever was. More cunning, more venomous, more deadly.

She sighed in frustration. She couldn’t have agreed with Rhys more. Everyone in the Districts had imagined a better life under Coin’s presidency. One without poverty, inequality, or the nefarious Games. However, it seemed that tyranny was a much harder disease to get rid of than they’d initially thought.

She glanced at Rhys. The betrayal probably hit him even more so, being part of Coin’s inner circle and all. She pushed her plate of goods towards him, as an offer of comfort and friendship. She smiled wryly as Rhys’s gaze met hers.

Come what may, she decided, she’d be on Rhys’s side.

END

[heather-levesque-blog]

Food is Love, Food is Life// Open

[cephdayne-blog]

heather-levesque:

“Right…still not much of a talker eh?” Cepheus remarked idly in an attempt to fill the silence. Heather snorted, her lips twisting into a bitter smile. It seemed that everyone was still interested in the “little munchkin from 11”, as the ever-so-eloquent Caesar Flickerman put it. Or, well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that everyone was still interested in being “the one” to get her talking again. She clenched her jaw in disdain. Well, in spite of popular demand for her voice to be heard again, her resolve to remain mute only strengthened.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on you.”

Cepheus’s words made Heather look up in surprise, just in time to catch him winking as he bit the rest of his strawberry. “I’m burdened enough,” he said, almost to himself, rather than to Heather.

The wink would have been enough to convince Heather that Cepheus was just trying get some under-aged action, had it not been for his odd comment after that. It certainly threw her off. She narrowed her eyes at him as she chewed on her blueberry muffin, wondering what he could have meant.

“I’d offer you some drinks but… don’t suppose it’s your thing. I hope you don’t mind me sharing your quarantine for a while,” said Cepheus gently, mistaking Heather’s silence for hostility. “Though say the word, and I’ll leave you to your… recreation.”

Heather snorted out loud. Recreation. That was certainly a way to put it. Heather looked at where Cepheus stood leaning against the wall. He looked surprisingly a little lonely. Perhaps a little company was just what all the Victors needed on a night as vile as this one. Heather shifted her chair so that she could face Cepheus. She pushed her plate of goods towards him, before settling back into her chair as she waited for his response.

Heather’s unwelcoming snort caught his attention, he wasn’t sure what it meant as he wasn’t trying to evoke any reaction from her by his indifferent comment. He was simply looking for reassurance whether or not his presence was intruding, and he seemed to have gotten his answer by the girl’s following gesture.

“For me?” he brow jerked up light heartedly as he finished the last piece of chocolate he had on his plate. An offer to share foods seem the highest honour that could be bestowed upon him by the young victor, and Ceph does not intend to turn it down. He reached for one of the less lavishing piece of biscuit with slight hesitance, wondering if Heather was just testing his virtue.

“I see that you don’t hate me after all.” He commented cordially, leaning in a bit closer to the plate. “Now… as the aging and rotting man I am… I might want to watch my glucose in take.” He smiled at her, blithely pointing to a custard tart, caramalised on the surface giving it an alluring shine.

“Would you recommend this?”

[heather-levesque-blog]

Oh hell no.

Cepheus might have been a friendly enough guy, but he was not going to come in between her and her custard tart.

Shaking her head ever so slightly, she reached out for the tart and brought it to her own mouth. To her satisfaction, the crust was flaky and light, while the custard itself was still warm and smooth.

Sorry Cepheus. She kinda had a thing for custard tarts.

As she swallowed her last bite, she smiled apologetically at Cepheus. She pushed the rest of her plate towards him as a placating gesture. He could have the rest of her food if he wanted.

Settling back into her chair, Heather pulled out her phone from her bag. Later, when her stomach called for her attention again, she’d go on another hunt for food. For now, however, her phone would serve as an ample distraction from the party.

END

[callxmexkip-deactivated20171117]

If he felt anything - he felt like a piece of fabric, stretched thin almost to ripping point. Starting two weeks before his Victor Tour began, Mercury was functioning on what could be mostly deemed as a “not recommended amount of drugs” just so he would be remotely presentable to the public. Alma Coin had seen to him personally, in her eyes, he knew she owned him. Like a puppeteer, she’d be pulling his strings and making him dance to the entertain her public. That was all he was, no matter how brilliant, no matter how broken - while he could put on a show, he was useful. The moment he wasn’t useful anymore, he was just as disposable as every other Victor. 

But Mercury wasn’t there just being a Victor - he wasn’t the poster child for hope, for overcoming difficulties and poverty, he wasn’t there as a hero. Walking into the party fashionably late as his Escort said, he was there as the very image of President Coin’s threats hanging over everyone’s heads. ‘This is what we can do to you if you think about challenging our authority.’ This. An eighteen year old broken beyond repair, with enough drugs on his system to knock off a warhorse just so he would be presentable enough at a party. The horror of his arena branded into his brains like cattle-marking iron. 

As he walks into the mansion’s garden, he looks nice. His prep team along with his escort and a subset of doctors had kept Mercury together just enough so that he wouldn’t look as grim and haggard as he had the previous months. Whatever medication they were jamming into him, made him as functional as possible, as pleasant and nice as possible, resembling very much the kid that had gone through the pre-games interview. Somewhat shy, somewhat pleasant, somewhat awkward, he was almost normal. 

Almost. 

He shook hands with sponsors (and his Escort told him that no, he couldn’t run away to wash his hand fifty-five times). People slapped his shoulder and he winced. Older men and women that asked oh so now you’re eighteen with leery eyes made his skin crawl and his stomach twist. He had bitten his nails to bloody stubs and peeled the chapped skin of his lips to the point soon enough he’d need stitches. The honeycomb maze patterns all over the place, people asking him to sign their rubik’s cube and that ice sculpture of a minotaur standing in the central table made it all feel like a tasteless dream. But he was drugged from head to toe so it was like watching his life unfold from behind a screen door. 

There was a moment though, where he couldn’t find Rhys, his stylist, his prept team, no one, where he was entirely by himself, with people mostly drunk around, the camera crews finally letting go of him and he finally slipped away from everyone’s watch. Mentally Unstable. The medical bracelet hidden under his black-and-blue dress shirt was a reminder. He grabs a knife from one of the tables, people around him laughing and talking loudly, as he pries himself from the limelight and slips into a corner where no one would slap his shoulder or touch his face. He holds the knife with the blade against the palm, staring intently at it until someone’s nearby presence startles him and he drops the bloody knife. 

“Oh. Hi. Hello.” He shoves the injured hand into one pocket and offers whatever smile he can come up with. “Lovely party isn’t it.”

[heather-levesque-blog]

Aside from the exquisite banquet, Heather had another reason for attending tonight’s celebration. She was just as curious as everyone else was about the new Victor. Scrawny and shy, he had charmed many Capitolites pre-Games with his awkwardness. Heather had initially doubted the boy would make it far in the Games, until the arena was revealed. Needless to say, Heather was very impressed by his intellect.

Now that he was crowned the Victor, Heather felt obliged to take him under her wing, so to speak. They were both just District kids who, not too long ago, thought that they would never have to live through the hell that were the Games. The illusion that ignorance so blissfully supplied was broken, the moment Coin announced the 78th Games. The panic that ensued only increased ten-fold when she was reaped.

Heather imagined that Mercury Flatstar went through more or less the same rollercoaster of emotions she had. Spurred on by their morbid connection to the Games, Heather resolved to meet the boy before the night ended.

She left him to his interviewers and fans when he first arrived at the ball. He would have his hands full entertaining the Capitolites anyway. In the meantime, she would keep her own hands busy by selecting food from the various buffet tables.

Settling down by herself at an isolated table, she quickly dug in to her scrumptious meal, occasionally joined by the other Victors- the only people in present company she could tolerate. As she ate, she observed the crowd around Mercury, waiting for them to dissipate so that she could meet him in private. Amusingly, Spiky McRapey made a grand reappearance, clambering his way through the crowd for a chance to talk to Mercury Flatstar.

Finally, Mercury managed to detach himself from his crazed fans as he ducked into a corner away from the limelight. Never one to abandon her food, Heather carried her plate as she walked towards Mercury. Who knew? Maybe Mercury was a fan of sushi.

As she neared him, Mercury seemed to sense her presence, as he started and dropped something onto the ground. Shoving a hand into his pocket, Mercury turned towards her and smiled weakly. “Oh. Hi. Hello. Lovely party isn’t it.”

Heather raised an eyebrow at his sneaky behaviour. As she peered behind him, a bloody knife glinted dully in the dim lighting. Though the sight of it surprised her, the fact that Mercury resorted to it didn’t. She left to grab a napkin from an unoccupied table and then rushed back to Mercury. Wordlessly, she offered the napkin to him, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

[heather-levesque-blog]

Food is Love, Food is Life// Open

[rhys-archer-deactivated20181112]

heather-levesque:

Heather looked up upon hearing footsteps approaching.

Dressed smartly in a suit and tie, Rhys Archer smiled as hewalked towards Heather. Pointing to one of the empty chairs, he asked politely,“This spot taken?”

Heather raised an eyebrow, curious as to why such awell-respected man- at least amongst the Victors- would take an interest inher. She nodded her head towards the chair opposite hers, wondering what RhysArcher could possibly want from her.

Heather watched him closely as he made himself comfortable. Sheknew that Rhys played an important role in the Mockingjay rebellion. Her sistertold her that Rhys helped orchestrate many vital operations, most notably, theGreat Escape of the third Quarter Quell.

He was a prominent and popular figure amongst the rebels.His intelligence and wit commanded respect from all. Unfortunately, he soonfell out of favour after Coin exposed him of organizing another rebellion, thistime against her. Still, it was that striking gutsiness and willingness to dowhat was right that made Heather respect him.

She absent-mindedly pushed her food around with her fork, asif she had forgotten the sole reason she came to this thinly-veiled “celebration”in the first place. She tried to stab her croissant, but missed and onlysucceeded in pushing it off her plate and onto the floor.

She cursed softly as she bentdown to pick up the croissant. A nearby Avox had the same idea and they bothgrabbed the croissant at the same time. She looked at the Avox in surprise,before reddening in embarrassment. She nodded curtly at them as thanks, andproceeded to take enormous, aggressive bites out of her croissant, refusing tolook at anywhere except for her plate. She let the buttery pastry occupy hertaste buds and thoughts, positive that the Avox, or worse- Rhys Archer- wouldstart laughing at her.

“Thanks,” he replied, taking the seat she had nodded to.

Heather had chosen to be silent after her Games, not wishing to speak to anyone that tried to strike up conversation with her. Still, she seemed open to some conversation, willing to oblige a few people even if she didn’t partake. Her Games had reflected the harshness and tragedy of many Games before her own, even going as far as her unintentionally stabbing her District partner in the chest. Had he been the one to kill his best friend in the Arena, he probably wouldn’t want to talk to anyone, either.

He was about to ask if the croissant was any good, only to watch it slide off her plate and right onto the floor. His brow rose, about to lean down and pick it up as well, but an Avox beat both he and Heather to the punch. Embarrassed by the brief exchange, he watched Heather go ahead and quickly eat a croissant, looking down at her plate.

“Hey,” he spoke up, leaning forward to try and catch her attention, “accidents happen. No big deal.” 

He wasn’t one to outright laugh at someone, especially if they had a clumsy moment. And Rhys wasn’t going to draw any unwanted attention to the incident, so the best thing was to move on from it. 

“The croissants any good? I’ve been picking at the dessert table– can’t stay away from those chocolate covered strawberries. And these lemon cakes.” He offered a sheepish shrug and a grin to match.

He broke off a little piece of the cake and offered it to her, “Wanna try some?”

[heather-levesque-blog]

“Hey, accidents happen. No big deal,” said Rhys kindly, seeing Heather’s embarrassment. She nodded and gave Rhys a small smile, though it probably came across more like a grimace. She straightened up in her chair, attempting to make herself look more respectable.

“The croissants any good? I’ve been picking at the dessert table- can’t stay away from those chocolate-covered strawberries. And these lemon cakes,” he said lightly. Grinning a little sheepishly, he broke off a piece of cake and offered it to her. “Wanna try some?”

Heather smiled gratefully and reached out to accept the lemon cake. Just as the sweet cream glided over her tongue, Rhys’s eyes shifted to look at something towards Heather’s left. Following his gaze, her eyes landed on the man of the hour, Mercury Flatstar.

Dressed in a fitted suit, with his hair neat and combed back, he looked like any other regular eighteen year old. Though, he was a little on the shorter side. And, well, only if regular eighteen year olds wore glamorous party outfits. Watching him shake hands and chat with the crowd, Heather felt a strange sort of kinship with him. Just two years prior, she was in the same position, celebrating a victory that didn’t feel like one, pretending to be happy even though she was dying on the inside. Heather bit her lip. The two of them, plus the Victor from the 79th Games, were the latest victims of Coin’s sadistic rule. And there were still more to come.

Dread filled Heather’s stomach. She wondered if they were doomed to live like cattle on a farm forever, raised only to be slaughtered. To Heather’s left, Rhys sighed heavily.

[heather-levesque-blog]

Food is Love, Food is Life// Open

[dianaatwoodxcataclysmic-blog]

heather-levesque:

Most Victors preferred to drown their sorrows in alcohol. Heather, on the other hand, would much rather enjoy the company of food. Especially the exquisite dishes the Capitol was known for.

As per usual, she walked straight past anyone who tried to talk to her, glaring at the ones who tried to walk alongside her. Meaningless conversations held no interest, especially since most of them would, presumably, be about her poor, unfortunate Tributes.

Her mood lifted considerably when she reached the tables laden with every food imaginable.

Let the real fun begin.

Starting at her favourite table, the one with pastries and desserts, she quickly filled her plate with butter croissants, chocolate cakes, strawberry and crème cakes, flaky tarts, chocolate gelato, cookies and cream ice cream-

“I’ve never seen such a little lady like yourself eat so much before.”

Heather glanced up and glared at the man who dared interrupt her food-choosing. He was a Capitolite, no doubt. The spikes protruding from his bald head were a dead giveaway.

“You know, I’ve always liked little girls who can-“

Rolling her eyes, Heather reluctantly tore herself away from the chocolate fountain and weaved her way through the crowd away from Spiky McRapey. She settled down at a table in a dark corner, ready to begin her date with the food on her overflowing plate, when she sensed someone watching her.

Diana had felt as though she had either made small talk with every Capitolite present, or that she had tried to avoid every Capitolite. She had lived there five years now and she still couldn’t quite get the hang of carrying on a full on conversation with someone born and raised in The Capitol. She always seemed to gravitate towards the former residents of the Districts, especially the latter ones since they were closer to her own.

She spent the evening slowly sipping on champagne, careful to steady her pace so as to enjoy herself but not get too drunk. Although, she found a bit of joy in watching the Capitolites who completely indulged themselves and walked and danced around like fools. She could only imagine being that happy now, and this seemed to be routine for every party she attended now. It had become a part of her life, longing for happiness again.

She passed a young girl as she headed towards one of the dessert tables. She recognized her to be Heather, a young Victor from 11. Diana felt a slight pang of indignation in her heart as she eyed her. She was so young, and to have already experienced such trauma.. Diana had to shake the thought off. As her thoughts came back to, she noticed a man from The Capitol seeming to creep on her. Ugh. She thought to herself. Her eyes followed the girl over to a corner and with that, Diana plated herself some chocolate strawberries and made her way over to her.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked her as she approached her table. “Sometimes I think us ladies need to stick together to ward off the creeps at these things. I’m Diana, by the way. Originally from Twelve.” She introduced herself. She had recognized the girl from the games, and she knew she had seen her in passing, but she was sure that the two had not really spoken up until now.

[heather-levesque-blog]

Heather jerked up in surprise. A pretty woman in a floor-length red dress stood in front of her with a plate of chocolate strawberries in her hand. What really caught her attention though- no it wasn’t the chocolate strawberries- was that the woman- Diana, was it?- said that she was from twelve. Granted, living in the Capitol didn’t really leave one with many opportunities to meet many people from the districts. But Heather was pretty sure that the last people she’d seen who were from twelve were Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

Heather nodded, shifting her chair a little to make space for Diana. Suddenly, Heather felt a surge of questions on the tip of her tongue. Ever since watching Katniss and Rue in the arena, she’d always felt a soft spot for twelve. She opened her mouth to speak, then clamped her mouth shut. Talking… talking felt too dangerous. Instead, she smiled briefly at Diana, before downing her glass of water just so she had something to do.

The cold water refreshed Heather, the moisture soothing her dry lips and throat. The best thing about the Capitol water though, was that it was actually clean and colourless. Back in eleven, they had limited clean water, and a large amount of it had to be used for their crops. That left very little drinking water for the already over-populated district.

[heather-levesque-blog]

Food is Love, Food is Life// Open

[heather-levesque-blog]

Brynn’s sudden laughter startled her, to say the least. It came out of nowhere, breaking the awkward silence between them. What really caught her attention though, was how unrestrained her laugh sounded. It was strange to hear, given how utterly trapped they were.

Heather wondered for a moment, if Coin’s suffocating rule had finally tipped Brynn over the edge of sanity.

“That must be quite the dessert. I’m sure the chef would be flattered if they could see you now,” she teased.

Maybe not quite over the edge just yet.

Heather raised an eyebrow, amused. She hadn’t ever met Brynn before, though she was sure they both knew who the other was. Yet, here she was, jesting with her as if they were old friends.

Old friends…

Friends?

No.

But-

She might have suffered greatly, but that does not mean she cannot be cunning.

But still…

Heather shook her head. What was she doing? Fighting with herself? Maybe she was the one who had jumped off the cliff.

Heather furrowed her eyebrows, conflicted. Though she liked her solitude, sometimes the loneliness chilled her to the bone, dulling her mind and squeezing her heart. It would be nice… to have a friend. Friend? Acquaintance? Whatever. Still, a desperate voice whispered in her ear, “Do not trust…using you…will die…”

Heather swallowed, and forced herself to appear indifferent. Before she could chicken out, Heather took her remaining strawberry cake and plopped it onto Brynn’s plate. Feeling her cheeks burn, Heather ducked her head and shoved a whole pastry into her mouth. That, at least, would distract her for a moment.

This tart was filled with blueberry jam, her absolute favourite. The flaky crust complemented the sweetness of the jam perfectly, just like peanut butter and jelly. 

Satisfied, Heather swallowed, before turning her gaze back to Brynn. 

What was she thinking?

[brynn-galloston]

The other Victor didn’t speak. The tidbit of information came flowing back as Brynn recalled her Games from just a few years prior. She had accidentally killed her District partner and since refused to utter a single word. Not during the interviews or her parties. She remembered the rapid change in the girl on the screens, as she tried to cope with the aftermath of her Games. They all bore scars and traumas, but most either lashed out or drowned themselves in liquor or drugs, rather than hiding their voice away, living in silence.

It was a bit odd, to be having a conversation with someone who didn’t speak back, but rather only vaguely gestured in response. Still, Brynn continued on, almost relieved that for once she didn’t have to determine any extra meaning behind spoken words. She had no idea what the other girl was thinking, but it was worth the decrease of stress that their interaction had.

A moment later, a pretty strawberry cake plopped onto her her plate, and Brynn raised her eyebrows in surprise. She could see a dark blush rise into Heather’s cheeks, before the other girl ducked back down to take a bite of a tart on her plate. It was a surprising, but sweet gesture, and Brynn was touched by the genuine nature of the offered dessert.

“Thank you.” She said, before taking a sizable bite, savoring the flavors as chewed. “I’m glad you don’t mind sharing a piece. I didn’t grab one earlier, and that was clearly a mistake.” 

It was kind of surreal, the ease at which she was chatting away with someone she’d basically just met. Perhaps it was because she didn’t have worry about figuring out any subliminal meaning in Heather’s words in addition to interpreting body language. Still, she was content enough to just enjoy the pleasant company and the delicious sweets for the time being.

“I have to say, you must try this one next. It’s absolutely divine.” Brynn suggested, copying Heather’s previous move and passing over a napoleon- like pastry covered in fresh fruits and powdered sugar. “What do you think? It’s definitely a favorite of mine.”

[heather-levesque-blog]

Heather’s eyebrows shot upwards in surprise as Brynn passed over her Napoleon pastry. She certainly didn’t expect her to return the gesture. She eyed Brynn curiously, wondering if she was the same woman who had stabbed her ally in the Hunger Games. Hesitantly, she cut a bit of it off and put it in her mouth.

Woah.

The layers of puff pastry crumbled in her mouth together with the cake and cream. The fresh fruits lent a delicious sourness to the sweet dessert, balancing out the sweetness. The powdered sugar ended up all over Heather’s lips, but it certainly satisfied Heather’s sweet tooth, and that was all that mattered. Heather’s lips quirked up into a small smile as she chewed.

“What do you think? It’s definitely a favourite of mine,” asked Brynn kindly.

Though suspicion still pricked at her mind, Heather swallowed and shot Brynn a thumbs-up.

The whole situation felt surreal. For the past two years, she had isolated herself from the rest of the world, afraid of the guilt, the judgement. They saw her kill. They saw her live. They saw her break. How could anyone live feeling so exposed and vulnerable?

Heather smiled wryly. Well. She knew the answer to that. Victors could. They didn’t exactly have any other choice.

Perhaps that was why she was letting her guard down a little, dangerous as it was at the President’s mansion.

A thought struck her. She wondered if they were being closely monitored right now. After all, the last whispers of rebellion- rebellion against her, that is- were last heard only three years ago. Maybe Coin had spies hidden in the crowd, recording any suspicious activity. Perhaps she already had a brand new hit list, with assassins ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Suddenly she felt as if there was a gun trained on her head.

Heather shivered. Her eyes darted around the large ballroom, searching for potential exits. Her eyes landed on Brynn, who looked appropriately confused. Heather bit her lip. Would Brynn think the paranoia finally got the better of her, or would she have her back?

Heather stood up abruptly. She nodded her head towards the sliding glass doors that led to the sprawling garden outside the mansion. Nails digging into her palm, she turned on her heel and hurried outside, not turning to see if Brynn was following her.

[heather-levesque-blog]

“Heather Levesque, our little darling from District 11, has certainly grown up quite a bit! She looks positively gorgeous in that pastel pink number by Miranette Fauchelevent-Chang. Don’t miss your chance to meet her at the gala tonight at President Coin’s mansion, together with other famous Victors, such as newcomer Mercury Flatstar. After all, we celebrate tonight in his honour!” -Caesar Flickerman, on Capitol News

[heather-levesque-blog]

Food is Love, Food is Life// Open

[cephdayne-blog]

heather-levesque:

Was another buffoon trying to hit on her?

Heather scowled and looked up, deciding that if Creep Number 2 needed any… painful physical persuasion, she would happily give it.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t another Capitol peacock. Instead, Heather found herself staring at the weathered face of one Cepheus Dayne.

He grinned, seeing recognition flash in her eyes.

“Oh don’t mind me. Dig in ahead. I’ll keep an eye out of that porcupine for you.”

Cepheus’s easy charm put Heather on edge. She didn’t know much about him, having been born only a few years before his Games. She didn’t hear about him all during the rebellion either. She only saw him after the rebellion, when he was reaped for the Second’s Victor Purge. He remained largely impassive, but she thought she could see his tight expression relax a little when his name was called.

Well, she couldn’t really blame him. Self-preservation was what kept her alive too.

That wasn’t what made her wary though. It was the fact that he was acting strangely friendly towards her. Although Heather didn’t know his exact age, she knew that he was still way older than she was.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Should she chase him away?

On one hand, he ticked all the boxes for “Slimy Sugar Daddy”. But on the other, he was a fellow Victor. Not to mention, he looked imposing enough to intimidate even the most arrogant Capitolite in the room.

Not that she couldn’t take them, but it was always nice to have someone else beat up people for her.

Ultimately, she decided he was harmless enough to let him stay. She grunted in acknowledgement to Cepheus’s words, before turning her attention back to her gelato. She shoved a spoon of it inelegantly into her mouth.

Damn.

The gelato was rich and sweet and cold and a million other delicious things she couldn’t be bothered to think of.  It was creamy enough to slide down her throat effortlessly, yet she was still able to savour the taste of chocolate on her tongue.

She closed her eyes and gave a sigh of satisfaction. Chocolate always made her feel better.

When she opened her eyes, she noticed Cepheus staring at her.

The girl didn’t seem to be bothered much as she went on enjoying her treats. A relieving sight, for sure, though not too reassuring as she still remained consumed by her shell, the same demeanor from two years ago still holding strong. However, it wasn’t her stiffness and mutism that disconcerted him, to be exact. He knew that she had a more tender nature than most other victors at his disposal, though her lack of reaction towards much of the mingling between the dwindled number of victors after the purge certainly wasn’t preferable.

He would elect to ignore her, most likely, as he would have with any other less interesting persons, though something about the girl inspired his hospitality. It may be her background, but he couldn’t pin point it as of yet.

She deserves more chances to earn his affection.

“Right… still not much of a talker eh?” He stated calmly as he plucked a strawberry from his plate and fitted it right into his mouth. With the slight grunt that escaped Heather’s lips, a suddenly realization came washing over him.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on you.” He shrugged, with an easy air of indifference as he jokingly winked at her while devouring that strawberry. He leaned against the wall behind them as he continued. “I’m burdened enough.”

He switched his attention between his plate of treats and the reticent girl beside him, the lack of feedback from the other slowly filling up the air between them with awkwardness and what resembled some ungraceful tension.

“I’d offer you some drinks but… don’t suppose it’s your thing.” He broke through the stiff air the best way he knew of followed by a inquiry for assurance in an gentle, subdued tone. “I hope you don’t mind me sharing your quarantine for a while.”

“Though say the word, and I’ll leave you to your… recreation.”

[heather-levesque-blog]

“Right…still not much of a talker eh?” Cepheus remarked idly in an attempt to fill the silence. Heather snorted, her lips twisting into a bitter smile. It seemed that everyone was still interested in the “little munchkin from 11”, as the ever-so-eloquent Caesar Flickerman put it. Or, well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that everyone was still interested in being “the one” to get her talking again. She clenched her jaw in disdain. Well, in spite of popular demand for her voice to be heard again, her resolve to remain mute only strengthened.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on you.”

Cepheus’s words made Heather look up in surprise, just in time to catch him winking as he bit the rest of his strawberry. “I’m burdened enough,” he said, almost to himself, rather than to Heather.

The wink would have been enough to convince Heather that Cepheus was just trying get some under-aged action, had it not been for his odd comment after that. It certainly threw her off. She narrowed her eyes at him as she chewed on her blueberry muffin, wondering what he could have meant.

“I’d offer you some drinks but… don’t suppose it’s your thing. I hope you don’t mind me sharing your quarantine for a while,” said Cepheus gently, mistaking Heather’s silence for hostility. “Though say the word, and I’ll leave you to your… recreation.”

Heather snorted out loud. Recreation. That was certainly a way to put it. Heather looked at where Cepheus stood leaning against the wall. He looked surprisingly a little lonely. Perhaps a little company was just what all the Victors needed on a night as vile as this one. Heather shifted her chair so that she could face Cepheus. She pushed her plate of goods towards him, before settling back into her chair as she waited for his response.

[heather-levesque-blog]

Food is Love, Food is Life// Open

[heather-levesque-blog]

Heather looked up upon hearing footsteps approaching.

Dressed smartly in a suit and tie, Rhys Archer smiled as he walked towards Heather. Pointing to one of the empty chairs, he asked politely, “This spot taken?”

Heather raised an eyebrow, curious as to why such a well-respected man- at least amongst the Victors- would take an interest in her. She nodded her head towards the chair opposite hers, wondering what Rhys Archer could possibly want from her.

Heather watched him closely as he made himself comfortable. She knew that Rhys played an important role in the Mockingjay rebellion. Her sister told her that Rhys helped orchestrate many vital operations, most notably, the Great Escape of the third Quarter Quell.

He was a prominent and popular figure amongst the rebels. His intelligence and wit commanded respect from all. Unfortunately, he soon fell out of favour after Coin exposed him of organizing another rebellion, this time against her. Still, it was that striking gutsiness and willingness to do what was right that made Heather respect him.

She absent-mindedly pushed her food around with her fork, as if she had forgotten the sole reason she came to this thinly-veiled “celebration” in the first place. She tried to stab her croissant, but missed and only succeeded in pushing it off her plate and onto the floor.

She cursed softly as she bent down to pick up the croissant. A nearby Avox had the same idea and they both grabbed the croissant at the same time. She looked at the Avox in surprise, before reddening in embarrassment. She nodded curtly at them as thanks, and proceeded to take enormous, aggressive bites out of her croissant, refusing to look at anywhere except for her plate. She let the buttery pastry occupy her taste buds and thoughts, positive that the Avox, or worse- Rhys Archer- would start laughing at her.

[heather-levesque-blog]

After all I’ve been through, I deserve all the goddamn cake I want.