oceanic feeling

you are a better knife than you are a person. tormenting, haunting, bewitching. your life is not your own. 18th Hunger Games Victor ; 26 ; District 4

[miller-brick]

For the briefest moment, it appeared as if she was looking right at him. For the briefest moment, it even appeared as if she recognised him. The idea alone made him feel a little self-conscious, which was absolutely ridiculous, of course. He knew he still looked worse for wear even after discreetly icing his face at every turn, but what did that matter here? It was mainly the Canvilles he needed to posture in front of and he was doing that just fine.

Soon enough, he managed to exorcise any feeling of discomfort by pure rationalisation, allowing himself to become absorbed in the performance instead. The last part was admittedly not awfully difficult. It was a delightful show, hypnotic almost, and Medea Mizuko was the most enchanting of dancers.

Yes, he was certain now. That was definitely Medea.

The dance reached its conclusion with a dramatic sequence, bolstered by the music accompanying it. Reality returned with the brightening of the lights in the room. Brought back into the present, Miller applauded along with the rest of the party.

[medeamizuko]

The spell broke and the dance continued. Gracefully spread arms and an artfully arched back later, the performance ended in a shower of applause. She lingered in this position for a second longer, feeling the delicious burn in her muscles that only ever came from over-exertion. Most of the time, the dance routines weren't the most ambitious. Medea welcomed a challenge. And, perhaps, this was more than just that.

Ever so slowly, ever so aware of the eyes on her, she very slowly rose from her rather acrobatic position. Gracious applause sounded from all around her and she fluently transitioned into bowing to her audience. It was a habit by now, going from an arched back to rising and bending right over to show her respects.

Never mind that those watching her ought to have been paying respects that they were even able to watch her up close. Never mind that she was a victor, someone who was worlds above the people in that room.

Yet again, she did not mind one particular person's eyes on her. Miller Brick... well, she was curious what he thought of her. Once someone deadly and inescapable. Now, a puppet on someone's string dancing for entertainment.

He joined in on the applause and Medea kept her bow a little lower, eyes cast upwards at his figure in curiosity. When she prepared to leave the stage, her gaze did not leave him. Medea hoped, however fleeting it may have been, that he would follow her, that he would strike up a conversation.

[miller-brick]

The drink in his own glass jostled slightly as he settled more comfortably in the bench. "So you're only enjoying this because of the wine?" Miller winced. "I'm heartbroken." The faux disappointment didn't last, though, disrupted by a grin at what Medea asked afterwards. "As much as I'd love to impress you," he tilted his head, "I'm afraid this is neither the place nor the time to get into all that." Unfortunate, maybe, that they likely would never see each other again after tonight. "Maybe if we ever meet again," he added in spite of his thoughts.

A death wish. That drew a quiet laugh out of him. The obvious answer was of course no, he didn't have a death wish. The truth, however, was never as straightforward. "Not quite that. But when you've known for years that you're going to volunteer, when you spend every day preparing for it, you sort of reach a point where you're also mentally prepared for every eventuality." That was a bit more candid than Miller usually was with regards to his former life plans, but once again, he figured there was no harm. Perhaps Medea wouldn't see where he was coming from, but he didn't expect her to.

"Death wish or no, I'm sure you have your own reason for volunteering." A reason he would be interested to know, but he didn't want to pry. Judging by her responses, it now seemed to him that Medea might not want to get into the subject from her own perspective, which nobody could blame her for. "All I'm saying is if death had been hanging that closely over my head, I would've wanted to try to enjoy what little time I had left. And you don't seem like bad company--even without the wine." After a pause, he asked, "You disagree?"

[medeamizuko]

She snorted. "Your heart will be fine," she joking reassured him. The longer they spoke, the more she could feel herself easing up. Her practiced posture melted into something more comfortable, leaning against the back of the bench with her body angled towards Miller. The wine certainly helped - but even if they'd have had none, she agreed with him; it probably wouldn't have made a difference. Despite the slight edges she presented him with, the walls she had still undoubtedly put up, it didn't feel difficult to hold a conversation. Maybe if we ever meet again. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Medea hummed in understanding. "So you've come to terms with the thought of your death." More of a statement than a question. "It's dangerous," her voice softened, perhaps in the knowledge that she would say something he might not want to hear, "if that's the case. It doesn't much agree with the general enjoyment of life." Her index finger traced the rim of her glass. "Your second chance at life, are you making the most of it?"

"I do," she agreed. "My parents would've preferred I hadn't. They didn't understand why I did. My oldest brother didn't like it either, but his reasons were quite different." Bitterness stole into her tone again, heavy on her tongue mixed with the fruitiness of the wine. "No- I agree," she eventually conceded. "You're not half bad company, I'm sure that would be true without wine as well."

[calder-mizuko]

Alright, so no bite. That was fine. If Medea wanted to be annoyed, Calder could very much be the same. "You never asked." Granted, there had never been a reason for Medea to, especially when they didn't even live in the same house, but Calder needed to argue back nonetheless. "I don't know, I submitted an application a few months back, then heard back like a week ago, I guess? It's just a stupid internship, okay? I haven't snuck out here or anything, mom and dad know." And Caspian, obviously. She'd also told Rio. Had it come up with Dam, too? "That's what I'm trying to-- Here." Calder thrusted the camera equipment towards Medea, asking her sister to hold onto it so she could retrieve her notes from her pocket.

[medeamizuko]

A small huff escaped her. "That's something you tell me, Calder. What am I supposed to ask you? Hey sis, have you gotten any jobs in the Capitol recently?" It barely soothed her that mom and dad knew. Her other siblings had probably known about this as well. Right underneath the simmering surface of shock that her sister was so close to a place Medea wanted her to have no part of, was a bit of hurt. Another huff was forced out of her when Calder thrust the camera equipment against her chest, robbing her of a bit of air. With furrowed brows and arms overflowing with a tangle of cables and a camera, she watched Calder fumble for something.

[blossom-cottonwood]

"Seven years." Blossom repeated in awe, impressed. This person needed a better title than 'human map', 'facility expert' would fit much better. She smiled as their arms were now looped and let out a small sigh, feeling a little more relaxed. It was common knowledge that the facility was filled with many different personalities. There were kind people and also people who really didn't want to be spoken to. Clearly Blossom had ran into the better option of the two.

"Perhaps somewhere that has food. Hate to admit but I haven't ate much the last few days. Between the stress before the Reaping and then everything that came after.." She made a face. "But suddenly it's all hitting me now and I'm starving." Blossom laughed as her stomach grumbled almost on queue.

[medeamizuko]

"That is easily remedied," Medea assured the girl, a lopsided grin rising on her lips. "Up to the sixth floor we go." She lead her towards the elevators, stepping inside and pressed the button for their destination. Turning to look at Blossom, Medea tilted her head to the side. "So, how come you bagged the most votes to be here?"

[wonderxrings]

"She didn't." Coro could still see the whole scene playing out in front of her eyes. Alma's name getting called, Daphne taking her place. The discontent that had rippled through the crowd like a cold wind. She could still hear Alma crying. If Daphne didn't win this Alma's tears would haunt her for years.

"She volunteered. The girl she helped raise, there was..." Coro frowned as trailed off, trying to remember exactly what soured everyone against Alma. It all happened so many years ago and she'd been fresh out of her own Games and entirely in her own trauma. "I can't remember the details, really. But no one's liked Alma for years now, I bet they thought they'd get rid of her the easy way."

[medeamizuko]

As soon as the twist had been announced, Medea knew that there would be those who found their way to the Capitol not due to their abilities, but due to a general dislike. Either they would be gotten rid of permanently, or the District would gain another victor. But volunteers were a rarity in District 10. Victors even more so. Medea quietly cursed under her breath. "Do you think she can make it? Any strengths that will help here here?"

[medeamizuko]

Task #3: Medea Mizuko

[mason-brick]

"They will probably catch up soon, I heard they are playing reruns of the reaping for the rest of the day and throughout the night." Mason had already made plans to stay up and watch so he could learn the tributes and study up. Surely others would do the same. "Hm, I'm going to have to vote for my brother." He said with a small laugh. Smith would for sure try to sneak out and Mason would be there too, supporting him. "Do you think your tributes will try it?"

[medeamizuko]

"They most definitely will. Maybe not to run away, but to find the nearest bar and go party. I know them from back home, they're not the easiest to be around," she admitted in a chuckle. "Your brother, right," she continued, trailing off. "And how's he doing? How're you going?"

[miller-brick]

@medeamizuko

The Canvilles understood his tardiness. Of course they did, his brother was a tribute, of course they understood that he'd needed to take care of some pressing matters first. Graciously, they didn't even point out the rather curious state of his face. Or maybe the room was just dark enough that they couldn't see the discolouration.

What was important was that they promised they would do what they could for Smith. At least they said they would. All things considered, it was a good start. Miller would have to follow up later, but for now, it was best not to press and to play it out like everything was going as planned and under control. For now, he would sit still next to the hosts and sip at his drink while the final performance of the night played its course.

Admittedly, he didn't pay the stage much attention at first. His mind was running a mile a minute, devising his next steps; which other sponsors he needed to talk to, what he needed to tell Smith, what he needed to discuss with the mentors. Only halfway through the dance that he realised he recognised one of the performers on stage--the central performer in fact.

How long had it been since he had last seen her in person? Since the only time he had seen her in person. Miller watched, eyes following the dancer's movement, wondering if perhaps he was mistaken and it was not her at all. Memories, fond as they might be, weren't always reliable.

[medeamizuko]

She was no stranger to this by now.

Medea had never been a stranger to eyes on her. Dinner after dinner at the Mayor's house, she'd grown used to curious looks and whatnot, but it had never compared to what it had all turned into after her victory. People here weren't shy about simply reaching out and touching her, a hand on her shoulder before it was pulled back with a squeal at having touched a victor, fingertips skimming down her sides appreciatively.

Most of all, bookings for dance performances. It'd been a surprise to her over time how often she was still commissioned for these sorts of things, even seven years after her own games. It was something special, she guessed. Something the hosts could brag about. Having the money to book a victor wasn't something just anyone had, after all.

Alluring movements, short costumes that hugged her curves just right. Muscles rippling underneath smooth, blemish-free skin and make-up that made her look even more mysterious underneath the stage lights. A gleaming and glittering star, a brief glimpse of something akin to divinity in a private party room. People cheered, oo'd and ah'd at the most fluid and impressive of moves.

And then, after a quick turn that had her hair flip over her shoulder as she directed her gaze at the watching crowd, she spotted him.

Miller Brick, like a figment of her imagination. The stage lights gained an orange tint. For the barest moment, the crackling flames of a bonfire separated them.

It was an odd comfort to have someone she remembered fondly watch her. Fleetingly, the ghost of a smile came over her lips, before she returned to the choreography.

[wonderxrings]

"That's what I thought as well." She muttered back. Nothing that man ever did felt like it happened by chance. He probably planned his days by the second. Maybe even the millisecond. She wouldn't be surprised if he had a different future planned for every potential victory. The thought made her sick.

Coro's smile turned sad and she looked down at the floor. "The travels went fine, it's always nice to see some of the other Districts on the way here. I... I know one of the Tributes. I always know of them, but I know her. We grew up together."

[medeamizuko]

"Oh," Medea breathed out, sorrow overtaking her features. Coro had been an anchor for her for years now, and she hoped she had been one for the woman too. But as hard as the Games were and continued to be, this one would prove to be even more difficult, Medea was sure. "You grew up together? How on earth did she get voted in?"

[calder-mizuko]

To be fair, that reaction was warranted. No mention of the internship had come up with Medea back home. Calder almost snorted laughing, but she held it in. "Ouch. Good to see you, too," she quipped. "Obviously I'm on an extremely critical mission to get this pile of shit to-- uh..." Which floor was she supposed to bring this up to again? With her hands full, she couldn't even pull out her notes from her pocket now. "Whatever. I'll figure it out. Hey, you know what would be fun? You giving me a tour of this place." Would Medea bite? Given how shocked she looked, maybe it was a slim chance, but it was worth asking.

[medeamizuko]

Medea's mouth was left agape. The sight of her sister here was so jarring, a shock zapped through her veins. It took remembering that Calder was not a tribute to calm her heart that had all of a sudden begun to race. She didn't belong here, but at least she was merely going to go back home with her after this was over. "I'd have appreciated a fucking warning," she spat back, letting out a deep, sharp breath right after. "Since when has this," she gestured at the equipment Calder was carrying, "been a thing? Where are you taking it?"

[miller-brick]

All through the feigned offence, amusement coloured the roll of his eyes. "I was completely fine to admit that it's likely nothing compared to the ocean you're used to, but you know what, never mind. You don't even know what I mean by that." This back and forth was utterly refreshing after the dinner they had just had. Medea seemed more comfortable in her own skin, more at ease than she had been just a little while ago.

Perhaps the same could be said about himself. He certainly felt more comfortable now than he normally did in these functions that they were discussing. Miller shook his head. "More often than not, the dinners I attend are held to act as medium for negotiations. Not much beyond that." It could be an oversimplification in some cases, but the essence was not untrue.

"Alright, alright," Miller chuckled, giving in. If she wanted him to speculate in more detail, he had no problem doing that, especially when this was far from the first time he had wondered about what would have happened. A short thoughtful pause followed, his eyes studying the shadow across hers. "But before that, just so we're clear, you're the first victor to get the backyard firepit access. So, no, I don't say that to all the victors." Maybe Medea wouldn't believe him even with his self-satisfied shrug, but he wouldn't fault her for it.

With that, he began. "I think we could've been good allies. Great, even." It might have even been expected of them. More and more careers had been allying together in recent years. Their background aside, though, judging by this conversation alone, he had a feeling that they would've got along well. "Our sets of skills would've complemented each other. And as grim as the Games get at times, I think we would've found a way to have our own fun all throughout." There was the matter of the finale, which he also had some thoughts about, but he held off on it for now. "Does that sound right to you?"

[medeamizuko]

Medea hummed, head tilting upwards in a slow nod. Recognition, even if she had guessed completely different. Perhaps she'd judged the Brick family wrongly. "Then the dinners you host are very different from the ones I'm used to." Her expression turned teasing again, as did her tone. "Benevolent families such as your own are a rarity."

Her smile, almost bordering on something smug, turned softer again. "Alright," she muttered, gaze directing towards the flickering flames. The wood at the center crackled, pieces curling and blackening. "I believe you, don't worry."

"You think so?" Medea looked up again, narrowing her eyes. "We wouldn't have had several glasses of wine to ease the tension, keep that in mind." Her nails clinked against the side of the glass. "And what is your particular set of skills?" He spoke of fun again, and Medea couldn't help but have her expression sour again for the briefest moment.

She still didn't enjoy darkness. Didn't enjoy being alone when it was dark. Whenever she heard a noise in an unlit corner, she flinched and thought she was cowering underneath a tree again, wondering if one of the walking dead tributes she'd killed was coming back to finish her off. Or, someone else entirely. Someone else her corpse would be directed to haunt. Like a limp puppet on a string. "Killing each other would've been fun, you think?" she pondered. "You got a death wish or something?"

[wonderxrings]

Coro didn't have many friends among the other Victors. Not yet, anyways. Half the time she still wasn't quite sure who she could trust and who she couldn't. But she trusted Medea. It was hard not to trust someone after you'd seen each other fall apart.

"Looks like Snow got the stir he wanted." She said, watching the tension roiling under the surface. "Do you really think the twists for the Quells were written back when the Games first started?"

[medeamizuko]

Looks like Snow got the stir he wanted.

Medea recalled the calmness with which Coriolanus Snow's speech had made. Certain, without a flicker of hesitation that anything whatsoever could've been out of order. Like someone who knew the intricate inner workings of what made the Games and the very nation itself tick. She wondered, too, if seeing it all unfold now would noticeably give him satisfaction.

"Not a chance," she muttered, voice low but nonetheless assured. "If everything had been planned when this all started out, the Games would still be held in the Colosseum."

She turned to her friend then, shoulders bumping as she offered a smile. More genuine this time. "How were your travels here? No complications, I hope?"

[mason-brick]

Mason couldn't help but be nosey. He tried to keep his gaze on his own paperwork that was clipped in his binder, but the argument that happened not too far away was distracting him. One of the people in the argument had been an Escort and Mason was just thankful he hadn't had any of the same issues. Not yet, anyway.

He shook his head as they walked away and looked at the girl who was standing not too far off from him. Instantly, he noticed it was Medea. He didn't know her too well, but he remembered meeting her during her Victory tour. He had only been a young child at that point, though.

"At least everything will be super entertaining, right?" He asked with a small laugh. "We should place our bets now. How many arguments do you think there will be from now until launch on who's a tribute and who isn't?" He asked. "My guess is seven."

[medeamizuko]

Medea gave a lopsided grin. "Gods, I hope there aren't that many. At some point, you'd think people would've watched the reaping. Since, you know, it's the most exciting thing to have happened in quite a while." Her arms crossed in front of her chest, the grin shifting into a contemplative smile. Curious, even. "Even more interesting, who, if anyone, might manage to slip out of the Facility because people forget they're a tribute?"

[blossom-cottonwood]

Where: Lobby of Tribute Facility When: A few hours after arriving at the Capitol

Being in the Capitol felt terrifying. The only thing Blossom had ever known was District Seven. Beautiful trees. Nature. Flowers with lovely scents filling the air. Bees buzzing by and crickets chirping. The Capitol felt... different. Stoney and loud. Luckily the time that would be spent in the Capitol would be in the Tribute Facility where it was at least a little more quiet. Not much, but a little better.

Now that she was cleaned and not covered in germs, per the person who cleaned her up, she was wandering around the tower. She wasn't sure if she was trying to find the floor where District Seven stayed or somewhere to eat, but she was just trying to find some sort of distraction. Something to do. Finally finding someone to ask directions from, she quickly walked over to them. Tapping on their shoulder as she was standing behind them, she spoke kindly. "Please tell me you've been here before and know your way around the building? I need a human map."

[medeamizuko]

Slightly startled, Medea turned from the conversation she'd been having with District 4's escort when someone tapped on her shoulder.

Blossom Cottonwood was high on the list of recognizable tribute faces for her. The main reason being that Medea had taken an interest in the girl from the very moment she'd heard the announcers list of information about Blossom. What had stuck with her most? This was the daughter of District 7's mayor. Difficult, not to draw up comparisons.

"Been coming here for about seven years now," Medea confirmed, side-stepping Blossom to loop an arm through the girl's. This was as good a chance as any to find out a little more about her. "I'm fairly confident I know my way around. Where to?"

[calder-mizuko]

Everything looked larger than life.

None of it came as a jarring surprise, to be perfectly fair. It couldn't, when the Capitol often flaunted its grandeur on screen, when the pageantry before the arena showed just enough of its culture. Still, Calder felt like she couldn't take in her surroundings fast enough. She wasn't unfamiliar with vastness. The beaches back home stretched uninterrupted for miles and miles, and the horizon over the ocean always looked an infinite distance away. The Capitol, however, was a completely different kind of vastness. There was no doubt that she could get lost a different kind of way here. The prospect of it alone excited her.

Unfortunately, getting lost would have to wait. She had a job to do. It wasn't all bad, at least she got to explore the Tribute Facility just a little while running errands for the producers. Carrying a clunky filming equipment she didn't even know the name of, she was making her way through the lobby when she spotted a familiar figure.

Calder followed her sister's line of sight. "What's their deal?" she spoke right next to Medea's shoulder, no preamble whatsoever.

[medeamizuko]

"Classic tribute-pedestrian mix up," Medea snarked. Nothing classic about it whatsoever. Some of these tributes looked old enough to be victors themselves, but were nowhere near on the Capitol level of put-together. The more she thought about it, the less the mix up made any sense.

It occurred to her then, several moments belated, that the voice was oddly familiar, speaking over her shoulder in such a manner that Medea had eased into it immediately. Hadn't questioned it whatsoever, even if it had no place in the Tribute Facility whatsoever.

Medea turned, lips parted in surprise as she found herself face to face with her sister. All decorum was forgotten now, any etiquette thrown out the window. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Her eyes flitted downwards, taking in the clunky camera equipment in Calder's hands. If she hadn't known better, she'd have almost thought that it was just like Calder to sneak to the Capitol under the pretense of filming something.

[miller-brick]

Was it a chore? Was it how he viewed swimming; as schoolwork? He'd never really thought much about it, but maybe Medea had a point. "Can't say I have. Do you think that's the problem? That I've never swum in real waters?" His fingers put up air quotes around the word 'real'. "I mean, I muck around in the lake up here sometimes, but I wouldn't call it swimming," he admitted. Besides, a lake had to be completely separate in all its characteristics from the ocean that Medea was used to.

Her reaction to his revelation was intriguing, to say the least. Miller observed the journey as he took a sip from his own glass, watched the glow from the fire danced across her shifting expression. For a moment, he wasn't sure how Medea might react, if perhaps she didn't like hearing what he'd said, but her response in the end didn't hint in that direction, or at least not entirely. "That's fair," Miller acquiesced, "but the dinners I attend aren't usually thrown to celebrate me." He didn't usually mind attention, but he also knew he had never been on the receiving end of the level of attention that Medea was. If he already found his fair share of dinners and functions suffocating at times, the ones Medea had to attend had to be even more so.

As he continued to observe Medea, a spark seemed to light up in her eyes. It reflected itself in his own, lifting his smirk into an amused grin. "Good question. One that we'll never know the answer to, I guess, but I enjoy exercising my imagination from time to time." Would he have? Could he have? With everything going on since just before the reaping, he hadn't had the chance to watch the 18th Games in full. From what he'd seen, Medea would certainly have been a force to contend with. More than that, she'd had a way of holding his attention captive whenever he'd seen her show up on screen, which which might have posed its own set of challenges had he been in the arena with her.

"As far as capabilities go, I'd say it's a good bet." He leaned a little closer to her, voice lowering, too, as if they were trading secrets now. "Or maybe not. But I'll admit, from outside the arena, I was rooting for you." It would have been different had he joined her, but that went without saying.

[medeamizuko]

A gentle snort left her at the word muck. "I wouldn't call that swimming either," she retorted, teasing. Medea shrugged, and a dark curl slipped forward, casting a deepening shadow over her features. "And, no offense, mucking around in a lake sounds dreadfully boring."

Medea hummed and raised a brow, lifting the glass again even if she didn't take a sip. The cool surface pressed to her bottom lip. "Are they not?" The tone of her voice shifted to one of unbridled interest. "Not decidedly - I know that - but company dinners thrown by the very heads of the company... Are they not usually meant to center the hosts? In one way or another."

"Go one then; exercise your imagination." Miller leaned closer and Medea lowered her glass. Her head tipped to the side, tongue pressing to the inside of her cheek. Here he was in front of her, clearly trained and apparently chosen to volunteer, and I'd say it's a good bet was all he would theorize? She shook her head, faux exasperation on her features as she let out a breathy chuckle. "No. No no no, come on. I want details. You were almost in there with me, don't tell me you did not imagine how it would've gone for you in more detail."

But I'll admit, from outside the arena, I was rooting for you.

"Ah," she murmured, smirking. "I bet you say that to all the victors you host for dinner."

[medeamizuko]

where: the lobby of the tribute facility who: anyone

"No- No, they're a tribute," Medea overheard the annoyed voice of the District 1 escort. Deeply engrossed in a heated discussion with a member of staff at the Tribute Facility, keeping a tribute from being cast out on the streets. Well, Medea thought, it might not have been the worst fate for a tribute. If they'd gone about it in a smart way, it could've meant freedom. A life of hiding and the fear of being caught, but freedom nonetheless. For whatever it was worth. "Did you not watch the Reaping?" came the shrill and final reprimand, before the escort herded the tribute away.

Medea snorted to herself. "This reaping twist is causing quite the commotion everywhere, it seems."