#crestah

[pathstread-archive]

     “i knew you wouldn’t be able to see it through.”  there is no unkindness or accusation in his voice — no disappointment or anger. he brushes his hand soothingly through annie’s hair, both of them curled up tightly in her district 13 bed.  “i told them to leave you alone...”  they can use finnick all they want — authorities learn quickly enough where his pressure points are, what they can do to make finnick do anything they want — but annie needs to stay away from their propos and wars. she’s endured enough.    //    @crestah  /  STARTER CALL  ;  closed 

[capitolhost]

@crestah asked : ‘i am made of water. of course i am emotional.’

lips   brought   together.   the   air   sucked   through   dentals   and   stung   in   his   throat.   tears   wept   for   the   LOST   SOULS   drowned   in   her   games,   wept   for   her   for   surviving.   suffocating   screams   still   in   his   soul.   they   had   found   their   place   nestled   between   the   others   who   had   survived.   who   he   could   still   help   and   not   all   tears   yet   were   wept.   the   lucky   survivor   to   endured   it   all.          "   not   crying   is   worse.   "          blind   victors   whose   smiles   were   truthful   on   their   lips.   the   stark   smiles,   winners   of   the   entire   scheme.      "   it   would   mean   this   all   never   mattered   to   you.   but   it   did.   "

[axevictor]

“  neither  one  of  us  has  many  friends.  “     (  @crestah  )

                                 It    catches    Johanna   off    guard,    to   hear    her    utter   those    words   –    Annie    doesn’t   say    much,    but   when    she    speaks,   it’s    usually    something   that    one    would   not    expect   from    District    4’s   poor    mad    girl.    Perhaps,   she    supposes,    that’s   why    Finnick    loves    her   so    much    –    Annie   is    not    mad,   she    never    was;   she’s    just    a    product    of   the    Games,    like   they    all    are.   Perhaps    Johanna    finds   comfort    in    realizing   she’s    not    sharing   her    stay    in   District    4    with   a    complete    lunatic.   Misery    loves   company,    and    all.

                A    slight   turning    of    her   head    to    the   side    to    better   look    at    the   girl,    raise    of   her    brow,    yet    no   words    escape    her   immediately    –    we    don’t   have    many    friends.    More   like,    Johanna    has   nobody    left    in   her    life    to   even    reach    for   –    it’s    all   your    fault,    it’s   all    your    fucking   fault.    Her    brothers   are    dead,    so   is    her    father   –    three    of   them    are    dead   because    of   her.        Isn’t    that   what    you    wanted?   To    be    bulletproof?    To   be    unable    to    be   reached    by    Snow   and    his    goons?   Didn’t    you    get   what    you    wanted?

                   The    biggest   fucking    irony    –    the   Capitol    made    her   unbreakable,    in    a    way.

              But    Annie   has    Finnick    –    Annie    has   people    in    here,   people    who    care.   And    that    makes   all    the    difference;    the   way    Finnick    will   look    at    her,   when    nobody    else   is    paying    attention   –    Johanna    sees   it,    and    perhaps   she    feels   a    hollowness    in   her    chest,    wondering   what    it    would   be    like    to   still    have    someone   to    look    at   her    like    she   matters.    Like   she’s    not    the   monster    she’s    become.   And    it’s    fucking   ridiculous,    she    knows,   because    none    of   that    shit    matters   any    longer.

               “    oh,   I    personally    have   no    one.   ”    she’ll    mumble,   all    nonchalance,    as   if    she    hadn’t   been    thinking    about   it    for    a    solid   four    minutes.    And   she’ll    simply    shrug,   fingers    fiddle    with   a    handful    of   sand    she’s    picked   from    the    ground,   “    you’ve    heard   the    story,    haven’t   you?    it’s    a    real    blast   to    tell,    trust   me.    ”    please,   don’t    make    me   say    it,    “    why    …    you    offering   to    be    the   first    Victor    who   doesn’t    hate    my   guts?    ”

[axevictor]

“  i  know  how  to  be  invisible.  “     (  @crestah  )

                      There’s    no   bitterness    in    her   voice,    but    there   is    a    subtle   tinge    of    sardonicism    that   Johanna    catches    on.   It    makes    her   lips    curl    into   a    sour    grimace,   yet    no    comforting    words  escape    her,   no    attempt    to   ease    Annie’s    statement    –    there   is    no    tenderness    or   delicacy    left    in   her.    Hands    that    were   created    to    destroy,   not    hold    and   comfort.

              Still,    Annie   remains    nonchalant,    the   way    she    utters   those    words    leaves   Johanna    actually    turning   around    to    face   her,    look    at   her,    see    the   glimmer    in    her   dead    eyes    behind   the    mass    of   hair.    I    know    how   to    be    invisible    –   Johanna    is    only   good    at    wreaking   havoc    the    way   she    did    back   in    her    Games.   Annie    is    good   at    pretending    to   not    be    there,   and    that’s    how   she    won    hers.   In    both   ways,    nobody    expected   it.

                    And    she’ll   come    to    stand   behind    Annie,    who   sits    on    the   vanity,    waiting    for   her    prep    team   that    has    been   absent    from    her   life    for    years  to    pretend   they    care    enough   to    try    and   pretty    her    up   –    make    her   look    fucking    ugly,    but   by    Capitol    standards,    Annie   nor    Johanna    are   beautiful    enough.    And   Johanna    trips    on   the    large    tail   cascading    down    the   back    of    her   dress,    heels    that   look    and    feel   like    torture    devices   bring    her    chunkily   close    to    the   other,    and    their   reflection    shows    two   strangers    –    Johanna  fucking    hates   dressing    up    for   events,    parade    around   pretending    they    are   anything    other    than   dead    inside.    But   Annie    will    be   there,    and    they   need    to.    Just   for    tonight.

                 “    don’t   know    much    about   fashion    shit,    but   I    doubt    you’ll   be    invisible    with   that    ugly    as   fuck    dress    your   prep    team    is   forcing    you    to   wear.    ”    Johanna   snorts,    an    attempt   to    lighten    up   the    mood    –    Finnick   is    not    here   to    do    it,   so    it    falls   on    her,    “    we’ll    just   stick    to    the   booze    and    the   wall.    hopefully,    they’ll   all    be    too   drunk    to    ask   us    for    autographs    this   year.    ”

[axevictor]

no. no further.     (  @crestah  )

                       Tensed    knuckles,   choppy    nails    dig   into    palms    that   sting    and   ache    to    throw   a    punch,    bite,   claw,    sink    an   axe    into    the   skull    of    a    fucking    reporter   that    once    more   shows    they    know   fucking    nothing    about   them    –    about   what    they’ve    been   through.    How    could    they?   To    the    Capitol,   Victors    are    akin   to    celebrities,    oh,    they   have    it    all   –    fame,    fortune,   reassurance    to    know   they    will    never   go    back    to   the    way    they   were    before.

                   That    is   where    the    problem   lies,    that    is   what    these    fuckers   never    realize    –    some   of    them    would   give    anything    to   go    back    to   the    way    things   were.

                Annie    grips   onto    her    hand,   tugs    at    it   and    squeezes    firmly,   and    Johanna    realizes   the    words    she’s   about    to    spit   back,    venom    -    laced    and   filled    with    foul   language    become    stuck   down    her    throat   the    moment    Annie   Cresta    mumbles    a    simple    –    no    further.    Annie   knows    what    they   can    do    to   them    if    they   retaliate,    and    unlike   Johanna,    she    has   people    back    at   home    whom    she   matters    to.    It’s   easy    to    lose   focus    when    you’ve   got    nothing    left   to    lose.

                      Sharp    intake   of    air,    fierce   glare    thrown    at   the    cameras    and   microphones    shoved    up   their    faces;    she’ll   offer    Annie    a    quick    glance,   a    soft    nod   of    her    head   –    fine.    We’ll   do    it    your   way    this    time.    And   she    lets    the   other    girl    lead   the    way    out   of    the    crowd   of    piranha    infesting    the   waters    around    them,   middle    fingers    popped   up    towards    every   single    news    channel   of    Panem    watching   them    exit    the   building.

                  “    good   fucking    morning,    Panem   !    “    she’ll   still    shout    as   they    enter    the   vehicle    waiting    for   them    outside    –    Johanna    Mason   always    has    to    have    the   last    word,    “    these    are   the    breaking    news   of    today.    ”

[spidaeyaunt-movedd]

5'9''

[enterpain]

HANDS WORK AT MASSAGING SORE PALMS, BROWN EYES HIDDEN BY BLUE  CONTACTS, BRINGING OUT THE BLOND OF HIS DYED HAIR AND ROUNDING OUT HIS APPEARANCE. he can’t think straight, mind running miles a minute, and he can’t help but want to make the world around him STOP. there’s no reason for him to wish this, knowing he had everything he could want, but if mike could, he’d silence the stifling volume of the capitol. 

which could be why he found himself AWAY from the parties for once, instead sitting out in the courtyard of whoever’s building (he couldn’t remember who was hosting, just that he had to be there in some capacity), letting his walls down. after all, he was still just a KID no matter how much they wanted him to be more.

          ‘‘ nights like this don’t happen often here....when you get past the background               noise, it actually feels CALM for once. ‘‘

STARTER CALL || @crestah

[axevictor]

❛ It’s how we survive. ❜    /    @crestah

                                                  “     it     shouldn’t     be     how     we     survive.     ”

               There’s     bitterness     in     her     voice     –     a     common     pattern,     Johanna     can     recognize     that     her     tone     is     always     filled     with     venom     lately,     anger     and     grudge.     She     can’t     remember     the     last     time     she     actually     felt     anything     other     than     a     desire     to     swing     an     axe     at     everybody     in     the     Capitol     and     watch     Snow’s     head     rolling     down     a     hill.     By     now,     it’s     become     natural     to     her,     and     that’s     perhaps     what     angers     her     the     most.

                  The     acceptance.     If     you     accept     your     shitty     fate,     then     you’ll     become     a     sad,     pathetic     conformist     just     hoping     to     live     one     more     day.     And     after     she     won     the     games,     she     promised     herself     to     never     be     one     again     –     look     how     that     turned     out.

                But     Annie     is     different     –     Annie     has     people     to     cling     to     still,     and     the     idea     that     she’d     give     into     their     fate     is     what    angers     Johanna     the     most.     Yes,     this     is     how     they     survive     –     but     that     doesn’t     mean     they     should     duck     their     heads     and     just     take     it;     isn’t     that     the     whole     point     of     this     idea     of     revolution     that’s     brewing     within     the     victors?

                 “     you     know,     Finnick’s     really     sure     we’re     gonna     win     this     …     ”     a     click     of     her     tongue     against     the     roof     of     her     mouth     –     she     doesn’t     want     to     sound     condescending,     but     she     doubts     it     will     ever     end.     It’s     a     fucking     paradox,     because     that’s     also     acceptance     of     her     fate,     “     I     know     he     has     to     believe     it,     because     he     has     you.     ”     head     leans     against     the     wall     behind     her,     the     one     they’re     both     sitting     against     –     Annie’s     feet     are     bare,     Johanna     wonders     how     she’s     not     cold,     because     she     shouldn’t     be     used     to     chilly     weather,     “     who     knows?     maybe     he’s     right.     maybe     we     won’t     have     to     keep     surviving     like     this     any     longer.     ”