not a dead thing

always out of place / and i think i lost my mind awhile ago holland westbrook, d6, victor 104th

[catmillers]

The power was out and it had Cat caught on her toes – she just wanted to go lay in her bed and pretend none of her friends were about to jump into the arena and die. Nope. The outage was worse; were the Vox Populi in the city? Was the Capitol under attack? No. Bed. Sleep. That would fix everything.

Cat's eyes widened in surprise at the dull glow to the bedroom when she caught sight of Holland haphazardly packing everything away. "Hey," Cat said moving to at least slow her girlfriend down. "Can't talk you outta anything if I dunno what you're doin'," Cat insisted, putting her hands out in front of herself, wedging her way between Holland and the suitcase, "And couldn't stop you if I wanted to, we both know that, c'mon, what's goin' on, Hol?"

[holland-westbrook]

"What's it look like? I'm getting the fuck out of here before I get my damn head chopped off," Holland said, not meaning to snap, but her nerves were shot. "Or, I don't know, sent to jail -- I don't know the Vox's plans for the Gamemakers, I haven't read their 5-year plan, I--" She turned away from Cat, couldn't look at her, didn't know what would happen when they were both clearly on different sides -- regardless of what Holland truly felt about the Vox, her position as Gamemaker was clear.

[holland-westbrook]

Holland was freaking out. Midnight had passed and the power still hadn't come on and her mind was going through all of the possibilities. None of them were good. The power outage meant that the rebels had gained more control than anyone had thought they would; and if they were capable of this, what else could they do? Were they in the city now? Were they coming to the Tower? Would they somehow... succeed?

She hadn't thought it possible and in fact she did support the Vox, she wanted them to succeed, wanted Cat to succeed -- but she knew that her head would be on the chopping block in that case, and she didn't know what it would mean for her future. If there would be one. Were all Gamemakers doomed?

Her suitcase was half-packed, with things spilling out of both it and the wardrobe, a flurry of activity when Cat came in. Holland had a lantern that she'd been given in Gamemaker Headquarters sitting on the bedside table, so the room was lit, though everything was cast in eery shadows. She looked at Cat wildly. "Don't try to talk me out of it," she said, warning, "you can't." She'd head to Six; didn't matter how she'd get there -- bribery would do the trick, yes? And she'd go up to her dad's, to the old place. Far from other things.

@catmillers

[tired-gage]

"Did our interviews even air, do you think?" Gage asked around her. She was sitting in the dark, and all she could do was wait. It wasn't her first blackout - in the heart of the city, they did happen from time to time - so she wasn't nervous about the power. She wasn't even nervous about the rebels, since she imagined whatever they were planning likely didn't include the District Six part of the Tower. They were unimportant, in the end. And wasn't that the point of it? Wasn't that why they were being sent into the Arena in the first place? Because the Capitol didn't realize that everyone was important in their own way. Even her ex-husband, though she would never tell him that. And especially Wiley. She hoped the girl was alright in the darkness.

@wileydepot @catmillers @holland-westbrook

[holland-westbrook]

Holland was trying not to be panicked, and it would be easier if there was something that she could do, but there wasn't. All but the essential Gamemakers had been dismissed, as everyone was just taking up room and air in the Headquarters with nothing to do. No one had any reliable information. So she'd taken to wandering around with a flashlight in her hand, stopping only when she heard a familiar voice -- one of the tributes from Six. "I think so," she replied, coming to a stop. "It's live, so people would have seen everything -- until the end."

[angelusmcrtis]

Lavender felt excitement bubbling up, her breath nearly hitching as she stood in the presence of the other woman. Holland was even more stunning in person than on television or in the papers—a dark, beautiful flower, like a corpse rose shrouded in mystery.

"I can't wait," she purred, her smile widening. "It will be such an honor to admire your great work up close."

[holland-westbrook]

"In that case, I worry I'll disappoint," Holland said, a bit frightened or perhaps put off by the woman's excitement. "Though remember, it was only the mutts that I've done. If you're disappointed in the architecture, that wasn't my fault."

[catmillers]

Cat gave a snort, at Holland's words because in what universe was Catarina Miller innocent? She sobered, a hand tensing for a second where she held Holland and then it relaxed as she managed, "Dunno, like – I mean if you haven't noticed I have this whole fuckin' hero complex even if the person's like you and is some wicked smart, highly capable badass." She rolled her eyes again, in spite of herself because being direct made her feel so exposed, so stupid, but Holland liked the directness, "Think I get more hung up on the 'if' stuff, 'cause of that."

[holland-westbrook]

Holland had noticed, she understood that Cat wanted to be the hero, to swoop in and save the day, and that it was painful as hell for her when she couldn't -- which was more often than not, thanks to the fucked up world they lived in. "Well, there's no 'if' here," she said, "you and me, we're safe. We're on the right side of the forcefield this time, nobody needs saving. But if you want, we could always do a little roleplay... you know, I'll be the damsel in distress, you be the hero." Her eyes sparkled.

[wileydepot]

Wiley looked at holland, quizzical and confused. What else would it be? "duh." but then, she kept talking. They didn't ask, they made her. they made slate, too. they made every victor come back as a mentor, but they made holland be a gamemaker.

the capitol doesn't like that kind of talk.

Wiley looked at Holland, unwilling to see a victim. She'd already set her perception of the victor, thirty seconds ago, and she was sticking to it. "I won't let them." she said, childish and firm. "They'd have to keep me in prison. or kill me. or cut off my tongue. I'm Six's. I'd never work for them. they can't make me."

[holland-westbrook]

"And with an attitude like that, you'd be sure to make lots of great friends in prison," Holland snapped sharply. Wiley was cutting deep, close to the heart, and Holland didn't want to let her get any closer than she already was. "You'd be surprised how quick Six turns on you. I know I'm a bogeyman back home, I know you all hate me. You're making it obvious enough. What makes you think if you won the Games, your District would embrace you?"

[denverneumann]

Denver gave a small smile. Luck. Such a small word, but it held so much inside of it. Holland hadn't wanted to go back in, had hoped not to. Denver'd suspected as much, and knew in her heart that no victor deserved to face the Arena a second time, but what did that mean, at the end of the day, when the glory and the fortification of Panem were at stake?

"I'm glad you weren't reaped," she admitted. Her voice was smaller than she would have liked, her confession a truth hesitant to be set free.

[holland-westbrook]

It seemed like that was tough for Denver to say, something Holland wouldn't have understood before she'd lived full-time in the Capitol. Now it was easier to understand the position Capitolites were in if they felt more sympathy for those involved in the Games -- it was tough. "I'd say I'm glad you weren't reaped, but guess there was zero chance of it," she said. "Was anyone you know reaped? Like anyone you met around here?"

[tired-gage]

Gage stared at her. It was an odd thing, someone being overly helpful when they shouldn't, especially someone from Six. She should question it. As a teacher, Gage knew how to smell trouble. But whatever was in those olfactory systems was clogged, because in that moment all she felt was gratitude. She would take all the help she could get.

"I'll just happen to step aside then," Gage said. She picked up a new bow, a smaller one for a weaker tribute, but a bow nonetheless, and began inspecting it with rigor, gaze flicking back and forth between the place where the string attached to the metal and the Gamemaker victor from Six.

They were both a long way from home.

[holland-westbrook]

Holland smiled, a private, secret little grin, excited to be doing something that she wasn't supposed to. She was always so well-behaved. She hated it. So she took a bow, an arrow, and stepped up to the line. She had learned this in Six, when she was out in the country with her dad, practicing on targets that were strapped to trees. Since coming to the Tower, she'd improved her form, enjoying archery more as a sport than as what it was going to be for Gage. She glanced over at her and, joking, said, "Now be sure you don't watch me, wouldn't want to pick anything up." She exaggerated her movements, making sure they were clear and easy to follow.

[catmillers]

"Yeah, which makes it real good that it didn't happen," Cat hummed in agreement, a crooked smile on her lips. "Don't think I'd be able t' stop myself from doin' it though," Cat said, shaking her head slightly, knowing that she'd be able to handle Holland a little angry at her if it meant she'd been safe. "I jus' –" She huffed out a sigh, trying to group her words together in her head before she let them tumble stupidly out of her mouth. "I'd feel so damn guilty if anything happened t' you, y'know?" Cat began, working toward her signature babble, words still somewhat clumsy, "And I mean it wouldn't be fair t' just leave you there Hol, I love you like, couldn't watch you up there like that."

[holland-westbrook]

"Guilty?" Holland pushed a piece of hair out of Cat's face, a gentle gesture, though her words in response were teasing. "What'd you ever do, miss innocent? Plus, I can fend for myself. I know what the Arena is, after all. I'd kill it in there."

[wileydepot]

"I'm a tribute." she corrected, annoyed by the implication that she of all people didn't understand how this went. She was the one dying about it, even if holland had been up for reaping this year. it wasn't her ass that had been literally thrown onto the train.

"You're a victor. you've got a nice fancy house, endless money, and you get to pick a fucking talent to do all day. I had to drop out of school when I was thirteen so I could fucking work for the capitol, and now they're going to kill me. Don't give me any fucking sob story about how the capitol owns you. They only had you in prison because you broke the law! and now you're out! and your special victor talent? KILLING ME, APPARENTLY? yeah, not super sympathetic of you."

[holland-westbrook]

"You think my job's some stupid victor talent?" Holland demanded. She knew that the general public didn't know that her job was part of a deal, that it was for her 'freedom' -- freedom from prison. That she remained under the Capitol's thumb and ever-watchful eye. "I didn't kill that man, though I wish I had now that I've suffered enough fucking punishment for it. And the Capitol didn't exactly ask if I wanted to be a Gamemaker. You think they asked Slate Skylar if he wanted to be the new face of the propaganda campaign? You're talking the way you are, you're gonna end up in my same position if you win -- the Capitol doesn't like that kind of talk."

[catmillers]

"Woulda probably fought like all a' the Peacekeepers," Cat said, trying to continue the charade for them. "Or would've volunteered, I ain't lettin' you go back in there again," She vowed, dropping a bit of the act, a crease forming between her brows, "Probably would've told Snow t' go fuck herself or somethin', dunno, I jus' – I like the idea a' you out here with me." Though she'd have to win the Hunger Games again and Cat wasn't fully certain she was capable of doing that but with the promise of a life outside of the Games, she'd have to at least try.

[holland-westbrook]

"Mm, I'd be pissed if you'd volunteered for me," Holland said, safe now in the knowledge that it hadn't happened, that it wouldn't happen. Safe to feel a bit warm, flattered and in love about it -- that Cat would have volunteered for her. "If you told Snow to go fuck herself we'd both end up dead, but together, at least."

[angelusmcrtis]

Lavender perked up slightly as the other woman received her compliment. It wasn’t often she encountered another woman with a taste for killing—an activity usually dominated by men. It was refreshing to find a kindred spirit of her own gender, even if their methods differed.

“Yes, I’m Lavender,” she said, batting her lashes as she looked up at the woman. “The pleasure is all mine; you need no introduction. I do hope you have something interesting planned for our arena. I can't wait to see the horrors you devise.”

[holland-westbrook]

Holland nodded, feeling mixed emotions at the sentiment. She had devised some muttation horrors, yes, gaining more and more responsibility and independence with each successful Arena that she worked on as a Gamemaker. And she did feel proud of the mutts, while also being horrified by her own pride, and ashamed of it. It sparked a strange feeling when she was complimented. "Well, you'll need to be on your toes," she responded.

[tired-gage]

Gage held a bow in her hands, instructions in neat text on glossy paper beside her. She knew in principle how they worked, and the book had advised choosing a low draw weight. She tested it, pulling the string taut without notching an arrow, feeling the strain in her shoulder muscles. The book had said not to release the string without an arrow either, so when the hold began to hurt, she suffered through slowly getting the string back in place. Then she sighed, resisting the urge to throw the bow against the table.

She was no help to Wiley like this, a sorry state for middle age. Her ex husband was right - teaching never prepared anyone for anything, not where it mattered. Her life's work had been a useless endeavor. All it had done was resolve her to give her life for a girl who was practically a stranger, and why? Because she'd been her guardian between the hours of the school day some decade plus ago? Bullshit. She had no reason to need to help Wiley. She never promised anyone. She wasn't the girl's mother.

But Wiley's mother wasn't there. No one had ever been there for Wiley.

Gage sighed, and placed the bow back on the table with an audible thunk, then turned and walked to the woman watching everything from against the wall.

"I don't suppose you're allowed to be instructing," Gage said, though more of a question. "I could use some instruction. Can't quite get a grasp for any of the, er, physical stations."

@holland-westbrook

[holland-westbrook]

Holland was, indeed, not supposed to be instructing. The Gamemaker rules were pretty clear in terms of not interfering with the tributes, and certainly not with giving them any leg up. Gamemakers had been fired and worse in the past for being overly helpful with tributes when it came to specific skills that would help them in the Arena.

But really, she couldn't just ignore Gage. She was from Six. Holland wasn't a mentor or a trainer, not even on Six's team, and yet... "No, I'm not allowed," she agreed, but she pushed herself off the wall. "But I could always just... shoot some arrows on my own, and you could happen to watch me."

[denverneumann]

Denver hadn't intentionally sought out Holland, either at the Victor's Ball when they announced the reaping twist or now that everyone was locked in the Tower. But she'd been standing right next to her for the reaping twist, and here Holland was, walking through the Tower, unreaped but still a prisoner. They were all prisoners.

"Holland," Denver called, jogging down the hall after her when she spotted her. "Holland, wait." She wasn't sure what she wanted from this interaction, really. It was impulse. She just...felt like she needed to say something.

"Hi," Denver said when she finally caught up to her. "Um, how are you?"

@holland-westbrook

[holland-westbrook]

Holland was glad to see Denver, in a weird way -- she didn't know the girl very well at all yet, but she felt like they'd gone through something together when they'd experienced Snow's speech at the ball, when they'd both had very... well, very human and normal reactions. Denver was a Capitolite, but she was also normal. "Well, I live to see another day," she said. "Guess I have more luck than I thought."

[wileydepot]

Wiley stood, getting all up in Holland's face, angry. She huffed, looking Holland up and down. "Yes, I do. you're from six. same shit as me. then, you got reaped, same as me. Then you killed someone, went to fucking prison, which had to suck, by the way. and instead of coming home and helping people like me, like you, you're helping pick us off for the capitol. You're a traitor to your own kind, you motherfucker." And it felt justified for Wiley to say so. she was holland's own kind. she could see the same rage in her eyes that Wiley was feeling.

[holland-westbrook]

"Oh, right, I should have just told the Capitol to let me do whatever I wanted," she snapped. "How'd you make it this far in life without understanding that the government owns our fucking asses? You were Reaped, and did they give you a little form to fill out to say you agreed or disagreed with the decision? Did they give you an option to say actually, I'd rather go help people in District Six? No, they fucking didn't, because they don't let you just do what you want. After you're Reaped, your life is theirs. You'd do well to get that through your fucking head sooner than later."

[angelusmcrtis]

@holland-westbrook

If Lavender was to maintain her facade and conceal her true desires until the arena, something had to change. Everything thus far had caused her mind to wander, and a wandering mind tended to venture into places others might deem demented. She found herself roaming the tower once more, her eyes scanning eagerly for someone of interest.

And there she was, Holland—a woman Lavender had admired for her time in the games. The memory of Holland's lover's hand being harvested had always struck Lavender as something magnificent, her heart quickening as she approached.

"I hope you don't mind the intrusion," Lavender began, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I just had to come and tell you how much I admired your work in your games… and the subsequent ones, of course."

[holland-westbrook]

Holland turned with some surprise to find herself being addressed by a tribute in a way that was admiring, rather than downright rude or slyly questioning. Holland wasn't above a good ego boost, and she said, "Oh, that? Thank you." In truth she wasn't proud of the killing she'd done in the Games, or before them, or -- certainly -- as a Gamemaker, indirectly, after them. But in prison she'd learned that it was better to feign pride, to suggest power and the ability and willingness to be ruthless again, not just when pushed. "You're one of the tributes, right? From Eight?"

[catmillers]

Cat settled toward Holland, wrapping an arm across Holland. She relaxed almost instantly, feeling every single muscle relax, sinking into Holland and the bed below them. "Same," Cat said back, her nose scrunching up slightly. Cat studied the other woman for a second and then squeezed at Holland's side, "But hey, look, we're good, nothin' happened t' us – I got you, you got me." Cat understood that all too well, hell, it felt like most of the time she was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something horrific to get them. "Probably would've made a big fuckin' scene if it'd been you," She admitted, lowering her voice as if she were telling a secret.

[holland-westbrook]

"Oh yeah? What would you have done?" Holland asked, a little smile on her lips because she liked to be close, liked to be safe in bed at the end of a shitty day -- and because it was nice to play in the what ifs. She had worried that if her name was called, Cat would have volunteered. She'd worried that if Cat's name was called, she herself would have volunteered -- her hand up in the air before she thought better of it.