#gamehaunt

[lazaruhs-moved-to-unsnare]

hi. uh i love your portrayal but you know cato is supposed to be british right? just saying maybe you should be canon divergent on your blog somewhere.

Thank you for this backhanded compliment. Thanks a lot. I tried to accommodate your request, is this better? With exclamation marks so people don't miss this.

I want to keep him as close to canon as possible and apologise for not making this clear enough on my blog... 😔 I also shall include the accent. Please accept my apologies for interrupting your reading flow and eyes. I'll make sure to award you damages for your sorrows.

[deathruined]

@gamehaunt liked for a surprise ! ( no longer accepting ).

[65ths]

⎯⎯⎯⎯ @gamehaunt sent : “you're allowed to lose it now and again.”

he nearly spits out a very unbelievable line in his own defense: i’m NOT losing it. the only thing that stops him is how much utter bullshit he knows that it is. it sounds like something katniss would say, finnick thinks, and maybe the two of them have been spending too much time together after all if that’s his knee jerk reaction. he reaches out a hand, gently pats peeta’s shoulder and swallows the way the pain rises up in him to smile instead. “yeah, thanks.” recovery is wearing him thin.

[wickedaxe]

"you seriously need a haircut." johanna quirks a brow at him, fighting off ( and failing at ) the smile inching onto her face. it was an odd relationship they had, first as an alliance born out of obligation during the quarter quell, then as a necessary friendship when they were both imprisoned. and now they were actual friends who could visit each other's districts without complication. she hasn't had such a friend in a long time. childishly, she wishes peeta thought of her the same. "don't think that's me offering to do it, though. i'll gladly chop wood for you but i'm not chopping your hair." ironically, however, johanna's maintained her own short hair all by herself. "you look good."

@gamehaunt ! starter call.

[pvnem]

"i don't know if i ever told you this before, but i used to give those pigs behind your bakery a small treat or two every time i could. one of your brothers caught me once. glad he didn't tell on me." delly smiles to herself, reliving the scene in her head for a moment. she was stalling — she was there to soften peeta up, to help reverse the horrors the capitol did to him; she wasn't supposed to be talking about pigs. but he'd lashed out so quickly the last time she brought up katniss and the rebellion, so she figured this might be an easier route first. "i always wondered if they had names. did they?"

@gamehaunt ! starter call.

[mcmorare]

@gamehaunt sent: ❛ i don’t know how you can stomach it, year after year. ❜

She doesn't know either. She doesn't know how she's going to do this, year after year, for the rest of her life. However long that is. It's a concept she's still wrapping her head around, the fact that this is it. This is what she is now. What she does. It makes her want to crawl into a fucking hole somewhere, to go hide up in a tree like she did after that first cannon went off to start all this. It would feel so good to smash a glass or scream or do fucking something right now, not that she has the luxury.

She scoffs, at first. If you look, you can see her jaw clench for just the slightest moment, but it's gone just as quick. "You just do." He'll learn soon enough. He'll have to. Make or break. It's not something that's really consciously thought about as much as it is the moment-to-moment, day-to-day instincts and acts of survival. Just get through this thing, and then this thing, and then the next. We'll see how long that will last her. "I don't know. It just happens."

[wickedaxe]

it’s okay if you’re scared.

for all the expertise they had in crafting the torture chamber they were shoved in, it was odd that capitol's holding cells weren't so... perfect. one would think keeping them completely isolated from sight and sound once the door was shut would be another way of maltreatment, psychologically instead of physically, but the cells were hardly soundproof. johanna could hear peeta's cries and screams as if they were in the same room, just standing ( slumped / laying / forced down ) on different ends of it. she had a feeling he'd say the same. it was unbearable to hear someone suffer and not be able to do anything about it. that in itself was a form of torture too, so she supposed the structure of the cells was intentional.

the wall between their cells felt like more of a proper barrier when they spoke to each other, though. johanna is pressed to it to hear him clearly, and she assumes peeta might've been in the same position on the other side. "i'll always be angrier than i'll be scared," she says with a sharp huff. "mostly i'm just tired right now, but i... i don't really have it in me to lay down and shut my eyes." what if she didn't wake up? there was still some strength in her, as well as the same need to survive that she had during her games, but a person could only take so much. the capitol had taken too much now.

random sentence prompts. accepting !

[was70th]

@gamehaunt sent : he stares at her a beat too long, almost trance like before speaking up. his voice is flat and devoid of any emotion, almost as if he’s reporting and observation rather than asking her a question. “ looks like all you needed was the love of your life, huh ? ”

ANNIE BLINKS, seaglass eyes darting up from the tray of rationed food before her - she’s been ordered slightly hardier portions due not gaining weight back as fast as her doctors would like, but the artificially grown, protein rich fair makes her stomach churn. she can’t help the faint frown that passes over her face at peeta’s statement, lips turning downward. finnick is a couple of tables over, roped into a conversation with someone who’s name she honestly can’t remember… it’s been a blur of faces and people in the close quarters of this district, she thinks they’re maybe in training together…. the way his fingers twitch against his grey-clad thigh tell her how much he’s itching to get back to her. “ peeta…. ” what’s she supposed to say in response to something like that? that she still has nightmares of roving, grasping hands? that she can’t look at the sterile white of the hospital ward without swallowing the urge twist herself into a corner and hide? her gaze glances to the guards stationed on either side of the younger victor, they make her far more nervous than the boy ever does.