#ofmentorship

[esc0rted]

the male tribute for district 12 is peeta mellark. the universe moves in slow motion as haymitch steps forward to offer himself up to the slaughter. devastation is scrawled plain as day across her painted face ━━ devastation where glee had once spilled over for the reaping and all that it symbolized. hidden behind a perfected faux smile and layers of powder lays a heartbreak she's never known. he's there the moment she steps foot on the train. it's always been them, here on this journey. a team. even when they couldn't stand one another. to think that she should be the one sending him away to fight in a game he's already won ━━ it's unthinkable.

she approaches with haste, hands settled on either of his arms as though she could hold him together. " oh, haymitch. "

@ofmentorship

[svjetllost]

“ Not fair you horde it all for yourself, you won’t be fighting for your life in a few days. ” She hadn’t bothered looking at the label of the bottle that she had snatched from the table, pouring herself a hefty drink. It’s not like it mattered, or that she had to worry about her health. The sound of parties outside of the training center was carried on with the wind. How easy it was for them to party, as if they did anything else as if their pitiful little lives mattered at all. “ So what exactly is the plan? Finnick has made sure to be vague, as he does best. ”

A finger moving over the rim of the glass, she plucked a cherry tomato, plopping it into her mouth. She had a good idea that this little plan would revolve around the star-cross lovers, the whole story was perfect for the Capitol. Something that these brain-dead morons would eat up, happy to get their grubby little hands off on a lovely story between two poor little District 12 kids.

As if they still won’t be happy to watch them bleed and die, now in a whole new setting. It will be the perfect television show. “ Will she know? How much I wonder? ” Crossing her arms on the table, she had leaned forward, a wicked little smile tittering on her lips before she leaned back, fingers focused on the glass, taking another sip.

for @ofmentorship from the starter call / accepting!

[hvbris]

@ofmentorship . Haymitch gets a starter

When Lucy Gray had appeared at the reaping for the first time, three years after her victory, she had half expected Coriolanus to send peacekeepers to her door. For weeks after the 13th Hunger Games, she thought he would kill her, somehow. But then, he didn't.

She kept his secrets.

37 years later, she was still alive, and he was still President. It was a strange status quo. She had children now, and every year she feared their names might get picked at the reaping. And every year, her relief was only short-lived. Yes, her children were safe, but she still had two tributes to protect. Somebody else's kids, who might never come back home. And for 37 years, she kept being the only mentor. How could the tributes of District 12 stand a chance, with their famished bodies and inexperienced hands.

This year, however, was worse than ever. Four children. Four.

"Hello there," she said gently, sitting down in front of the only tribute who hadn't run to their cabin as soon as they boarded the train that was quickly ripping them away from their homes. "You're Haymitch Abernathy, aren't you?"