“No lecture, surprisingly enough,” Silver hums, with a slight shrug. It’s a strong first step that she lets them in at all, leads them to the dining area, asks them to sit, with tea, which they do. It’s more than they deserve, after so many years doing nothing to try to right the wrongs they’ve done, perceived and real, and even now they’re not quite sure they’re ready to drum up apologies, to figure out how to navigate something they can never truly make up for, no matter how their feelings have changed, how they’ve changed in the past year.
They’re glad that Aven speaks first, as they’re suddenly having trouble knowing where to begin, when there’s so much to say, when the last time they had spoken they had both had hope, hope annihilated so easily, back to the same position as every year before, except worse, somehow, so much worse. When she uses their name, they can’t help but look up briefly, a little wide-eyed, fingers of one hand tapping against the warm cup of tea. A breath escapes their lips, and they look back down at the tea. “I’ve been thinking about Thalia, the past few days,” they start slowly.
In truth, Thalia is always there at the back of their mind, in their nightmares when they do manage to find sleep. But she’s been there more so since realizing the Games would go on, as they consider Zero, consider how to give him the best chance. How they had managed to get as far as they did in their own Games. They can’t help but flex their free hand instinctually, that familiar phantom sensation of electricity flowing through fingers, damaging. They wrap that hand around the cup, too, gripping a little too hard. Silver isn’t even certain it’s something Aven would consider, at least not from them, but it feels important that they do it, instead of Digit. A gesture to show her that what happened on the train was not just a fluke for them, that they meant what they said, what they were doing, even if none of it can be said outright safely anymore, here in the Capitol.
“I’d like to propose an alliance. Zero and Kin.”
There’s no lecture, sure, but Aven should have known better than to put her guard down. Because there it is—yet another name. Names are stories and Thalia is nothing but a tragedy. A tale of the literal girl next door, sent to die three years before Aven was reaped herself. At least, this is the version Aven has started to tell lest she starts pointing fingers at Silver all over again. She’s had enough of the Capitol revisionism. “I think of her all the time,” she says, uselessly. “But I believe... I understand what you’re trying to say.”
You can’t change the past, so change the future. It’s already happened with the 74th. Maybe it could happen again. Taking inspiration from the 53rd has her nervous for Kin most especially, but it’s not like Aven has any other brilliant ideas. And she did say that she would trust them, after all. Aven was hopeful that their exchange on the train meant some kind of progress, but perhaps she needs to give them more credit: Silver is actually here. She nods, stares down at her tea again. “I can’t promise anything, but I will talk to Kin about it. I doubt they’ll say no...” She trails off, realizing she actually hopes Kin will agree to it. Kin is no career in terms of strength and training, but pair them with someone like Zero and maybe the both of them will have a fighting chance.
She clears her throat. “Really playing the Game this time, are we?” A very awkward attempt at a classic Digit. Of course, she doesn’t mean the joke that way, not really. But the avoxes moonlighting in the room make her uneasy, a constant reminder of what would happen if either of them so much as misspeak. “Don’t you think having a medic in on this alliance would be even more beneficial?” She means to ask about Citron, too, Three’s elderly tribute who Aven struggled to watch during the rebroadcast. It’s a suggestion that would make her hopes for this season a little too obvious, however, so she keeps it to herself for now.