Wiress

18+ THG rp blog, by Polaris

[insightscursed]

They might as well have had a sign…

Wiress was the victor of the nest of mirrors meant to drive the tributes mad. She then became the girl who outsmarted the arena but lived to pay the cost.

The victor who “seized” following the 50th Hunger games and is one of the Capitol’s favorite cautionary tale of a genius who lost her mind too young. A broken mind and lost soul…

And yet the foxes are still the henhouse, biding their time among the capitol and its glories… among the victors and their spoils.

Because maybe the most dangerous mistake the capitol made was letting her too close to it’s bones…

Because a broken genius could never harm them, right?

Starters Musings about Wiress

Tag List:

#Mirror Mazes (Wiress in Sunrise on the Reaping)

#Canary in a bunker (Wiress survives Catching Fire) (The companion verse to "You're Just Nice, I'm Just Right" on StrategistsMind) #Canary sings in the mine (short songs in character) #The strategist and the lookout (Any musing for Wiress on her dynamic with Beetee)

PLEASE READ ADMIN INFO/IMPORTANT NOTES BENEATH THE CUT

Please be aware:

This blog deals with 18+ themes, many of which are canon typical

Wiress’s portrayal is a mix of canon and head canons, but leans into a morally grey characterization of her character.

This blog is meant to be versed between the aftermath of the 50th games and the 75th games

She is shippable within reason, just send me a dm if you'd like to plot

The admin is 23 and currently in graduate school… so responses may not be consistent (or Admin may be on the admin's other roleplay blog @herelifeisbeautiful or @strategistsmind or anywaythewindsblow [ HTTYD rp blog] )

Literate roleplayer

This is a generally open for interaction blog, but please be respectful.

As a boundary, I will not roleplay with someone under the age of 18 due to content matter

[insightscursed]

// Well... Effie's blog is completely gone. Google completely disabled the account attached to it (I have no idea why) and I don't feel like trying to submit an appeal to google for a tumblr account. So RIP I gues

[aedearly]

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.

[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?

[the-rubber-band]

Reblog if you're okay with people coming into your dms or ask box with storylines and rp ideas!

[insightscursed]

"Right, yes..." she shakes her head, blinking her eyes a few times to try and return her mind fully to the moment. It takes her a few seconds before fully remembering her point, but she eventually regains her train of thought, "Older tributes from poor districts often have a soft spot for young tributes, they will fight for them, protect them. If you're looking for an alliance, find a tribute that attracts ducklings, not starved animals."

Somewhere in her mind, she remembers her own games. The tribute from her own district who was twelve years old... who'd asked to hold her hand in the training area, who'd sat on her bunk and asked if she'd protect him... the tribute she'd abandoned the moment she realized that survival would mean she had to leave him behind to die at the hands of a career and disappear as she heard the confusion of bloodbath behind her. Wiress wasn't sure what that said about her, even now...

[whatsbehindthefacade]

Ducklings...he supposes that includes him, really, though it's not quite something he's ever been called before. He can only hope that she's right, that there will indeed be older tributes who might be willing to provide him with some sort of assistance, or at the very least turn a blind eye if they see him in the arena. It's not much, but it's better than nothing, and really he supposes that's all he can ask for. Whether Pixelle will help him, he's not sure. But he hopes at least that she won't outright attempt to kill him.

"Thank you," The boy says softly. Wiress may be a little odd, but he gets the sense that she's trying her best, as good as anyone can when forced into this situation, especially when you come from somewhere like District 3. They're not like the careers, no guarantee of sponsors or attention, but perhaps to fly under the radar may not be such a bad thing.

[insightscursed]

The victor nods sharply. She reaches for another piece of bread on the table and hums something to herself about district breads... and then she speaks almost distracted, "You should share some bread during training... it's a matter of survival for many... a form of alliance for those who know it as fellowship." she tilts her head as she looks over the small loaf in her hand, "This is from four. Fermented yeast holds up better in the environment. Its a bit more chewy... I once shared a loaf with my co-mentor my first year..."

[insightscursed]

// Beetee believes in necessary evils of the world, Wiress believes that they might truly be evil after everything they've done

[insightscursed]

She smiles softly... for a second, her expression softens, "I know you will... that's why we trust you, Fila." With that, Wiress turns to leave... as she steps out into the victors village, she feels her hands start to shake. Not the usual shaking form the neurological damage in her body, but her body almost reminding her that it was human... she felt fear, deepset fear that made her heart hurt... But she also knew better than to show it as she opened the door to her co-conspirator's home. They had a lot of work to do.

[whatsbehindthefacade]

Trust. What a heavy burden trust could be. And yet Fila was determined to prove himself, to do his utmost best to help his mentors in any way he could, even though he knew that such a path was far from a safe one. No, it was a rabidly dangerous one, one that could spell death even outside of the arena. But what else could he do? He couldn't just abandon them, not now. Not when they needed him. No, he had to stay strong.

So the boy threw himself into his new tasks, kept his head down, avoided drawing any attention as best he could, followed each instruction to the letter. There was a lot to process, a lot to take in, but he was managing it, bit by bit. And soon enough the day of the reaping came around, and even though Fila already knew the outcome, he couldn't help but feel nausea stir in his stomach as he was escorted out of his home in the victor's village.

[insightscursed]

On the day of the reaping, Wiress's eyes darted around as she looked at the sea of faces as they were marched from the victor village to the reaping by peacekeepers. Her grey-blue eyes stared forwards as they climbed the stage... She knew how this would go. The Capitol had wanted her and Beetee dead. They'd always wanted them dead. Rebellion was brewing in the districts, the girl on fire had given the districts hope of actually being able to overthrow the Capitol's power... so they'd want them dead. Killed by the arena they'd help build... Her name is called first. Wiress knows it will be. There is only one name in that bowl. "Fila Thomson" The name make the two older victors of District 3 visibly tense. Beetee puts his arm in front of the boy before he can even step towards the reaping stage, "I volunteer as tribute." his tone is calm, it's usual flat nature that he kept in public.

[insightscursed]

// ooc: Thinking about how Wiress would ultimately vote yes because she's spent the entire rebellion being told that they have to do everything to make sure it's not all for nothing... so what's one more yes to the horrors under District 13?

And how Beetee votes no because the war is over, there are no horrors left to justify not after what he did

[insightscursed]

@whatsbehindthefacade (for Fila) The war had ended with fire. Wiress had known exactly what she and Beetee had made... they had to. It wasn't as if Coin ever gave them say in the matter. She used the same reasoning to vote yes for a games that had never happened... it was all necessary violence, all in the name of ending a war, wasn't it? One last horrible thing and she'd to go home and never have to touch another bomb again. The train ride from the Capitol to Three was quiet. No one knew what exactly to expect other than the fact that, like many others, their victor village was burned to the ground during the purge. The Capitol's act of cruel and senseless violence... and Wiress was not unconvinced that District 13 didn't have a hand in it as well, better story to build an enemy... "You do... not have to stay near us." Wiress says, her pale eyes flick once to Fila as they exit the transit station... her eyes look so exhausted and broken, she had since the first neatly hidden bomb rattled the live feed of the rebels in the Capitol, "It may... be..." the words die on her tongue. It may not be good for Fila to remain associated with them. Not after what they'd done... that's what she wants to say. ...Beetee doesn't seem to have the energy to pick up the words. Nor does he seem inclined to.

[insightscursed]

@oddsfavorcd (for Elley)

The day of the reaping for the 75th Hunger Games came like a bullet striking the victors of the 32nd and 49th games between the ribs. It was an odd feeling... to know your entire life's work came down to what amounted to a hail mary you were going to try to pull off... but a hail mary came with a price.

Wiress pressed close to her former mentor as they walked with the others onto the reaping stage, completely normal for broadcasts... they separated to their respective sides of the stage and he nodded once to her...

Wiress was certainly not wearing her 'best', but she wasn't sure she cared to. She hadn't had a moment to breathe between the coding for the 75th games in the Capitol, ensuring Plutarch had the plan down, sending the communication across the coded channel, and ensuring that everything was set in her token, she was dressed a modified work outfit and her tool belt hanging around her waist. She stared straight ahead, her eyes entering the same vacant gaze they often seemed during broadcasts. Its the same as every year... other than the reality of a death sentence hanging over you, like the group of victors was standing on a gallows... Fitting, she assumes, that she and Beetee would be the ones reaped from the district. What a unique act of cruelty to make them program their own deaths...

Her eyes watch as the escort reaches a hand into the first bowl...

"Elleydee Tan."

The words ring in Wiress's ear and for a second her mind fails to catch up. She refuses to believe that the Capitol wouldn't rig the quell... they wouldn't make sure that they weren't the ones being tossed into the arenas to finally be made examples of... then her mind clears, and for the first time on camera in 25 years, the older woman's eyes are terrifyingly lucid as her hand shoots up, her voice far from soft or shaky when she speaks clear enough to catch the attention of others, "I volunteer as tribute."

[oddsfavorcd]

elleydee stands up from her chair on the stage as the escort says her name for the second time in her life. she'd had nightmares about this, about being told that her victory didn't count, and she was back in the reaping again, but she'd thought they had been just that until the quell announcement. her hands are shaking, she notices as she stands. she can't remember if they were shaking last time.

she's barely taken a step forward when wiress stands up, her hand shooting up in the air. “i volunteer as tribute,” wiress says, and elleydee blinks at her.

she hadn't been expecting that.

still shaking, she takes a seat again as wiress makes her way to the front of the stage. beetee's name is called next, and the two of them shake hands, the escort declaring rather half-heartedly that this would certainly be a games to remember.

shortly after, they're hustled off stage by peacekeepers, all of them crowded together and instructed to wait for further instruction like schoolchildren. elleydee turns to wiress, emotions she can't quite understanding twisting sharply in her gut like tangled wires.

“what was that?” she demands.

[insightscursed]

Wiress knew exactly what their plan was... she and Beetee had pretty well decided that regardless of the draw, they were throwing themselves back into the arena. If the rebellion needed a way out, they were it's best bet of blowing a hole in the forcefield.

She tilts her head at the younger victor, the wide, usually vacant, nearly grey eyes look at her, as her brow furrows. She's clearly trying to consider why Elleydee looks alarmed. Most victors would likely be grateful for a volunteer, right? And besides, considering the pots were always rigged, she nearly scoffed at the possibility of Plutarch switching the names in the female tributes to give them some sympathetic view for sponsors... which she would appreciate if it didn't make her bristle with annoyance considering the rigging should have made it clear that Snow wanted them dead. Which he did.

It takes a few moments before she speaks, simple and plain in her tone, as if not understanding the confusion, "I volunteered. The Capitol would much rather watch it's greatest failure of a victor die. Better for optics." she tilts her head, and something so strangely intense takes over her expression, eyes clear and focused, "And the Capitol would much rather I die than you."

[insightscursed]

Interact for a starter set in the post-Mockingjay world... Where reconstruction has begun in Panem, and the world is shifting around those still stuck in it

(Set in the verse "Canary in a Bunker")

[insightscursed]

Wiress's arms linger for a few more moments before she lets go. She steps back a few steps, her eyes looked at him... despite his age, somehow she'd still see the little boy they'd guided through the victory tour... a memory that often mixed with the tiny tribute from the 50th games... "Focus on keeping Beetee alive. If it works, he'll be the one to do it. Do that for me, please." she finally says, her breath shaking a little as she does. "And be safe... please."

[whatsbehindthefacade]

Fila clings for the briefest of moments, the desire for reassurance and comfort so clearly showing him for the child he still is, but then slowly he lets go. In the two years since his own games...well, Wiress and Beetee have both become like family to him. They've been there for him, guided him through, reassured him, taught him. Now it will be his turn to look after them, truly an incredibly fucked up role reversal if ever there was one. The thought that he might lose one or both of them...it makes his breath catch in his throat.

"I'll do my best," the fifteen year old says softly, biting down hard on his lower lip and swallowing past the lump in his throat. He doesn't like this, doesn't like how it feels far too much like a goodbye despite the fact that they still have time. Time though that may be running out.

[insightscursed]

She smiles softly... for a second, her expression softens, "I know you will... that's why we trust you, Fila." With that, Wiress turns to leave... as she steps out into the victors village, she feels her hands start to shake. Not the usual shaking form the neurological damage in her body, but her body almost reminding her that it was human... she felt fear, deepset fear that made her heart hurt... But she also knew better than to show it as she opened the door to her co-conspirator's home. They had a lot of work to do.

[insightscursed]

// ooc: I saw Hadestown for the 4th time and am now debating how much I want to make that everyone's problem

[insightscursed]

At first, her body goes rigid. It almost always does at contact... and for a second she stands there. She then wraps her arms around him in return. She's silent for a few moments, the emotion breaking through is evident as her breath shakes... She's always been aware of her own role, as much as Beetee was hopeful of the fact that they'd both survive the arena, she'd always figured that she might not live to see it all work... and part of her had accepted that. But right now? She hopes his hopes are true. "I promise..." she whispers through her own shaking breath, "we won't fail you."

[whatsbehindthefacade]

Wiress stiffens, and for a moment Fila feels he should let go, that he's overstepped her boundaries. But then she's wrapping her arms around him in return, and he lets himself melt into the hug, feeling every inch the child he is. It's been nearly two years since his own games, and yet the pressure now feels even more intense than that did. Then again, back then, the only responsibility had been to himself, the desire to live and not to die. Now though...now the responsibility has widened. Anything he does could help or jeopardise his mentors, and furthermore the entirety of Panem. It is no small task, certainly not for a fifteen year old, but what choice does he have? There's no way he could walk way, not now. He could never forgive himself if he did. Wiress' words reach his ears, and he gives her the gentlest squeeze, "I won't fail you either. I promise."

[insightscursed]

Wiress's arms linger for a few more moments before she lets go. She steps back a few steps, her eyes looked at him... despite his age, somehow she'd still see the little boy they'd guided through the victory tour... a memory that often mixed with the tiny tribute from the 50th games... "Focus on keeping Beetee alive. If it works, he'll be the one to do it. Do that for me, please." she finally says, her breath shaking a little as she does. "And be safe... please."

[insightscursed]

// Shout out to everyone with the ability to name their THG OCs because I got the idea of writing a TTRPG oneshot that requires an entire cast of THG ocs and I am trying not to think about the fact that I will have to name all of them

[insightscursed]

@oddsfavorcd (for Enobria)

In the training area, Wiress had 'wandered off'... she'd gotten into the habit of checking around the training center for hints as to what environment awaited them in the arena... she'd gotten rather good at it over the years. After getting frustrated with not being able see anything, the woman from three climbed up the bars until she was able to find her balance and perch on them... What was she missing? Segments? Patterns? She tilted her head, her mind narrowing until it completely forgot that she was standing on bars in the middle of an area meant for them to show off their skills to the game makers above them.

What she didn't think to remember was that she was currently staring down at people, the unsettlingly wide blue-grey eyes of three's victor seemingly staring far too long at the career pack.

[insightscursed]

@oddsfavorcd (for Elley)

The day of the reaping for the 75th Hunger Games came like a bullet striking the victors of the 32nd and 49th games between the ribs. It was an odd feeling... to know your entire life's work came down to what amounted to a hail mary you were going to try to pull off... but a hail mary came with a price.

Wiress pressed close to her former mentor as they walked with the others onto the reaping stage, completely normal for broadcasts... they separated to their respective sides of the stage and he nodded once to her...

Wiress was certainly not wearing her 'best', but she wasn't sure she cared to. She hadn't had a moment to breathe between the coding for the 75th games in the Capitol, ensuring Plutarch had the plan down, sending the communication across the coded channel, and ensuring that everything was set in her token, she was dressed a modified work outfit and her tool belt hanging around her waist. She stared straight ahead, her eyes entering the same vacant gaze they often seemed during broadcasts. Its the same as every year... other than the reality of a death sentence hanging over you, like the group of victors was standing on a gallows... Fitting, she assumes, that she and Beetee would be the ones reaped from the district. What a unique act of cruelty to make them program their own deaths...

Her eyes watch as the escort reaches a hand into the first bowl...

"Elleydee Tan."

The words ring in Wiress's ear and for a second her mind fails to catch up. She refuses to believe that the Capitol wouldn't rig the quell... they wouldn't make sure that they weren't the ones being tossed into the arenas to finally be made examples of... then her mind clears, and for the first time on camera in 25 years, the older woman's eyes are terrifyingly lucid as her hand shoots up, her voice far from soft or shaky when she speaks clear enough to catch the attention of others, "I volunteer as tribute."