ᴡʜᴏ: PRUDENCE WARREN & ALEXANDER GRAY ( @riiseandfall )
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: TWELFTH FLOOR, TRIBUTE TOWER
ᴡʜᴇɴ: MORNING, TRAINING
Growing up, Prue didn't know much about her parents' lives in District Twelve. She knew that this is where they had come from. She knew that the district was stricken by poverty and hunger. She knew that they had fled to try and give her a better chance to live. She knew that, deep down, both of them wished they could do more do help their people. She knew that their connection to that place had influenced their decision to assist District Thirteen in the rebellion efforts. She knew that their attachment to their people had led to their deaths.
She thought their lives in District Twelve had been left behind when they fled. She thought that any family she had there was long forgotten – her parents had never discussed their distant family with her, and so Prue had grown up with the assumption that they simply didn't exist. That her parents had nothing to leave behind. This assumption, she would later find out, was wrong.
Three years ago, she had volunteered to follow in her parents' footsteps and assist with the rebellion effort. Two and a half years ago, she had been informed that she would be sent to the Capitol as a spy. Two years ago, Coin had pulled her aside and told her there was something she should know before heading to the Capitol.
The conversation is still something of a blur for Prue – I wouldn't be telling you if they weren't going to be in the Capitol, too – Coin had said, before explaining that Prue wasn't the only child her dad had fathered. Before explaining that the 'distant' family in District Twelve wasn't quite as distant as Prue had always assumed – that her father had left behind a two-year-old child when he had fled to District Thirteen. That the child had grown up and been sent into the games. That the child had never known where they came from.
Prue had felt sick – but she'd swallowed the bile in her throat and gathered her resolve enough to utter, quite simply – thank you for telling me.
She'd sat with that knowledge for two years, unsure exactly what to do with it. Alex had been in and out of the Capitol with the games seasons – but she'd never gotten close enough to tell them. She wasn't sure if she should tell them. Coin insisted that retaining their cover was the most important thing, that the rebellion should be the top priority – and Prue had done her best to abide. She'd left it alone, telling herself that telling Alex now wouldn't do any good. That she couldn't even get close enough to tell them. That if she did, it could get them both killed. That there would be opportunity after Snow was overthrown and they had their freedom.
Then the twist to the games had been announced. Then Alex had volunteered to go in with his other sister. And Prue had felt like crying. Crying for a brother she didn't even know. It was then that her resolve was broken – she decided that, no matter the cost, she wouldn't let Alex go into the arena, possibly to their death, without speaking to them. Even if she didn't tell them, she wanted to know them – at least a little bit. They were the only family she had left.
She finds herself pressing the elevator button for the twelfth floor without a game plan. She couldn't just go right up to them and say hi, I'm your long-lost sister – that would be ridiculous. But she also couldn't be up here without a reason. Shit. She's starting to panic, pressing buttons to try and get the elevator to stop, when it opens up on to the twelfth floor with a ding – and she peers out to see none other than ALEXANDER GRAY staring back at her. "Twine." She says – her voice coming out strangled and odd, "I'm here to borrow twine." Nailed it.