#ahw134

[cress-meadowforge]

Beneath the uniform streets of the Capitol, deep within the catacombs of District Zero, Cress sat on her throne, surveying her kingdom. And it was magnificent to behold. The swirling, glittering array of costumes, gliding uniformly across the dance floor. A knight, moving forward to take a pawn. Laughter as wine poured freely over gilded chalices, and the distant clang of swords, crisp blades scraping against each other as opponents vied for control.

This was her fourth birthday at District Zero, but her first with a co-host. Slate, somewhere in the crowd, and wasn't that the most peculiar thing? That Cress was here, draped across her throne, and Slate was lost in the thralls of the revelry, the shadowy corners where indulgences took hold.

Cress watched the crowd with a practiced elegance, her eyes glinting with amusement and concern. A kiss blown to a passing guest. A wink to another. Some attendees were wearing masks, but Cress' must have been the best: that of perfection, of regality. But she was searching for him -- for her lover, her victor, her king.

@slate-skylar

[catmillers]

"We should be in," Cat said, entering another string of numbers into the pin pad to the train. They'd stolen some uniforms of few of the conductors so, to Cat, they blended in perfectly. The door popped open a moment later and she lit up like a kid in a candy store. She made a gesture for Alder to enter first as if this were a fun adventure and not sedition. "So, we get to the head of the train, you watch my ass, take pictures a' everythin' we're doin' so we can show these motherfuckers who's boss," Cat said holding out her fist for a fist bump.

@alder-reid

[lee-hatchett]

@alder-reid

It was ironic that the only way to get the Hunger Games' claws out of you was to have a parent die. Then you could be granted a reprieve, at least temporarily, before the letter would arrive on your door again, smelling of roses, that your service was once again required. And so Lee would come back, bound by an oath sworn for him, to the Tower in 135.

But until then, there was still the wrap of of 134 for which he wasn't responsible. But there was someone who was. And it wasn't Alder's fault that he hadn't seen Lee in a while; Lee had reclused. But it was time to reconnect. So a quick text message sent out, Meet me a Gracie's? and the time decided upon.

Lee didn't wait for Alder to arrive before ordering his own meal. But when Alder did finally arrive, Lee stood to greet him, his arms open wide for a hug. "Alder," he said, his voice oddly hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken in weeks. "How've you been?"

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Location: District Zero Party With: @cain-gunn

The mix of the music, the vibes, the drinks, it was not hard to get caught up in the ethereal nature of the party that was happening in a place that know one truly knew. Pyxis's hair hung, gel making it seem as if she had just climbed out of the ocean, the pearls in her headpiece catching in the light as she danced with the others. The fabric wrapped around her shimmered in the lights, making her feel as if it was shimmering water in the soft light of dawn.

Pulling herself out of the mix of people, giving a smile to the woman who had been keeping her company on the dance floor, Pyxis watched her move on to her next partner as the redhead left the area. Walking to the bar, she raised a hand lightly to summon another drink as she looked at the person who was next to her.

"Something about the entire vibe makes this place feel like its not real," she mused to them as she waited. "Like you're caught in a place between worlds."

[nano-cache]

For the first seventy-two hours, Nano wasn't allowed to have guests. They said he wasn't a danger to himself, per-say. That wasn't the problem. It was that Nano hadn't been caring for (or about) himself at all. He wasn't well enough yet to be integrated into the rest of the ward, still on a delicious diet of saline through an IV and carefully monitored hospital meals served on a little plastic tray every few hours, like clockwork. But he hated the isolation when it meant he couldn't work on his algorithm. There wasn't anything to do. He couldn't get up and do anything. There was no phone to fuck around on. And the worst part: Slate's Games were playing on repeat.

So, for the better part of those first few days, he slept.

Eventually, he graduated to an expanded routine. He met with a counselor, though he didn't trust a Capitol shrink. They let him have markers and crayons, but not pencils or pens. But he still avoided the television. Nano couldn't bear to see the reruns of the Games or the stupid fucking victory tour on screen.

It was afternoon, distinguished by his set time to stare blankly out the window while eating a cup of chocolate pudding, when he heard a voice. He turned, staring at the doorway. Staring at Link.

@linkcache

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Location: District Zero Party With: @slate-skylar The holographic card was the same one that had come every time these parties were thrown. Pyxis had been more apt to ignore them in the past, often wary of strangers in strange costume. After all, why would she stay in the city for a party aside from the Victors Ball, when she could just go home?

But now . . . now things were more confused to her than ever before. Things she thought she knew, she did not. It reminded her of what happened all those years ago, where those watching her had said it had been obvious all along. Had it really be obvious? It was these thoughts, the realization that she didn't quite want to be home yet, that made her finally take the invite and go.

And naturally, as the Fates would have it, the one who caused all of this mess, the veil to rise from her eyes at least a little, was here. Honestly, he probably had more place than her. It was his birthday after all.

"Flint," she said as she approached the man clad as king, "I didn't realize it was your birthday." She didn't know a lot of things though.

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Location: Train Station and City Center, District Four With: @cress-meadowforge

Twice a year, the train would pull into the station, carrying the newest Victor to show to the world. Every time, Pyx would stand to the side, a former Victor ready to greet the latest in to share the honor. In her simple white dress, simple ballet flats are on her feet and hair tied in its normal braid, Pyxis waited like it was just another year. As if these games hadn't brought more tragedy than normal.

When they all stepped off the train, she had her smile on her face. It took a mention in the speech for her to remember one of her tributes names, her face having a moment of 'aha!' before trying to subdue it. The skies above were grey and overcast, the waves reacting to the skies anger and thrumming against the shores loud enough to be heard from the center of the district.

When the speeches were over, and any greeting and celebration was to occur, is when Pyxis went over to Cress. The woman had traveled with the District Twelve Victor (something Pyxis was sure had a reason that she had missed or forgotten).

"Why did you ask me if I was reaped?" It was abrupt. Out of place. But she had to know why that had been important.

[nano-cache]

The actual speech was bullshit. Empty, contrite. Nano hadn't come to hear Panem's propaganda machine in action, but he was here nonetheless, seated beside Link among the rest of Three's victors. They were, admittedly, a weird fucking crowd. But he was eager to see his friend, one of the few still standing after the Berries had died in the arena--

Slate didn't sound like himself, but Nano hadn't sounded like himself either when he was on his stupid fucking tour. It was a requirement. A skin-searing, vocal-chord-melting slow torture across the country, and Slate was just doing what he had to do. So Nano clapped when it was time, and stood when it was time, and then he bolted for the back of the stage, eager to see his best friend again -- at last! -- after everything they'd been through.

@slate-skylar