WIP Wednesday
Wrote this before the Sunrise book announcement, so this will most definitely undergo "changes" to stay a little bit compliant 👌 (tho be warned, since it's not grammatically polished)
“When do you think Andromeda will be back?”
The little one, Nettles, pipes up in a small voice. Haymitch peels away his view from the balcony and migrates to her round face and soft, doe eyes. His gaze particularly adheres to the details of her tiny feet, which are childishly swinging on the front skirt of the couch. They don’t even touch the carpet. He shudders at the thought of her not making it past the Cornucopia.
“Beats me,” Kaiser shrugs all the way from the dining table, already piling the omelet on top of his amalgam concoction of food. “She doesn’t really care about us. So why should we in return?”
“We don’t have anyone else besides Andromeda,” Maysilee joins in the conversation, plopping next to Nettles on the couch. “As the only District with no Mentor, we can’t exactly be picky with what we have.”
“Course we can,” Kaiser snorts, fetching a wine glass with a vee-shaped bowl that ladles sparkling amethyst water. He sniffs it before taking a careful sip. “Our Escort sucks anyway. Hey, Mitchie! Wanna try this with me?”
“Don’t call me that,” Haymitch guns him a bone-chilling glare. “I don’t want to drink.”
“Suit yourself.”
All of them immediately perk up at the shuffling sound of footsteps coming their way. Their Escort, Andromeda, waddles first within their line of sight, her octopus hairdo highly unmistakable and too ridiculous to miss.
“Well, here they are. They’re not much to work with.”
A new voice startles them.
“We’ll be the judge of that.”
Haymitch pauses in his stride, gaping at the two new arrivals that’s tailing their Escort. Maysilee does the same, whereas Nettles and Kaiser sprint excitedly towards the newcomers.
“What’s going on?”
Andromeda settles her focus on them, and they’re met with a mad glint of artificial eyes that burns a dent through their skull. “Since it’s the Quarter Quell, the higher ups have permitted District 12 to loan Mentors from the other Districts for this year’s Hunger Games! Luckily for the four of you, we have two eager volunteers.”
“Sorry, volunteers?” Haymitch slits his eyes in suspicion. “You’re saying that our Mentors are from another District?”
“Well, yes. That’s exactly what I said,” Andromeda says. There’s something in her tone that makes him feel stupid. “You should be grateful that someone is stepping in to ensure your survival, young man.”
“How do we know they won’t sabotage our chances so their Districts can win?” Haymitch asserts boldly, standing his ground. Maysilee mimics his skepticism. This ripples an effect on the other two where Kaiser stiffens in alarm, and little Nettles is reduced to a bundle of nerves.
“Because that will be considered cheating, a risky tactic that would condemn not just the person who committed the act, but their entire District as punishment.”
The culprit is clad in a stylistic gray jumpsuit with long puffed sleeves at the top and a dark denim tie that’s formed loosely in a bow. The red in her hair has been washed off its merrier color, like it's beginning to tread near unpigmented gray, stripped back in a high ponytail.
“And which District are ‘ya from?” Haymitch asks, shoving his fists inside his pockets.
The girl refuses to acknowledge his question. She sways her head to where Andromeda is standing uselessly between them.
“I apologize for this one's behavior,” His Escort says, waving him off as if he was some disgruntled child that's throwing a tantrum. “I would have started with the introductions sooner if Haymitch wasn't so rude to interrupt me.”
“Haymitch wasn't being rude,” Maysilee comes to his defense. “What he's asking is valid. Why now, do we have Mentors? And how do we know we can trust them in keeping us alive?”
“If you impertinent children are this ungrateful to the people who are willing to help you, then you don't deserve Mentors to begin with!” Andromeda snaps.
“Oh, leave them be. They have the right to be suspicious,” The other one, the one with warm hazel eyes, says. “I honestly don’t see anything wrong with them questioning such a change. They have some backbone, which is good in my book. ”
She gives them a welcoming smile, a stark contrast to the blunt poker expression that her companion is frostily emitting. She trudges past their stunned Escort and introduces herself to them.
“I'm Mags Flanagan, and I've been a Mentor for exactly thirty-eight years now.”
Tagging the few who would like to indulge 🫣
@lorrainestea @littlemarianah @thelettersfromnoone @persephoneprice @thegoddessprose
