Thresh Okonjo Does Not Want To Be Here @thresh-okonjo - Tumblr Blog

birchpembrooke‌:

“They really should have a teams-only lounge. A room without sponsors and tributes. I don’t know why, but that sounds like it could be very quiet, like a little paradise in this place.” Birch didn’t want to call it a hellscape because there were plenty of friends he only got to see here. But almost everything else was too much for him and, he was sure, other mentors.”It could have a pool table or something.”

Birch shook his head even though he hadn’t really checked. Most channels were Games coverage, but maybe there was something else? “You know the Capitol, there’s really only the Games.”

Even so, Birch picked up the television remote and started flipping through the channels. Games coverage, games coverage, re-run of his show (which he clicked through incredibly fast), and then - “I’ve never seen this one,” he mused, letting the image stay on the television for more than five seconds.

“That sounds fantastic,” Thresh answered with a sigh as he leaned back into the couch. “Mentors, escorts, and stylists only. At least escorts and stylists, you know... know how exhausting it can be from our side.”

He didn’t really care what was on television right now, so long as there was something to fill the silence. If there was one thing Thresh hated, it was pure silence with no noise in the background. It reminded him of how alone he had been in the arena, and how he would go days at a time before he saw anybody or anything around him.

But Thresh laughed a little when he saw Birch’s face flash across the screen along with some Capitolite with purple hair.

“Not wanting to watch reruns?” he asked. “I probably shouldn’t laugh, or they’ll stick me in The Threshelor or something. This history stuff is fine.”

The television flashed with a talk about the Dark Days, not unlike those propaganda videos they would show them in school as kids. An overview of a shining city and sounds of explosions punctuated the program, but Thresh didn’t bother paying much attention.”

birchpembrooke‌:

He was back, sooner than he wanted to be. Lael and him had spend the last little bit in the Capitol so that Lael could get ready for the Reapings and all of her duties for the Games. Then they had separated to their respective Districts a few days before the Reapings were supposed to happen.

It’s not like he didn’t like being around Lael, but having some time feel normal was nice. He even had a chance to call Oakley and spend some much needed time with Leo and Sable. He let out a sigh as a Capitolite came forward to wish him well on his engagement and his two new tributes.

He smiled and graciously accepted the well wishes, before turning down a hallway towards a viewing room that was seemingly empty. He sat on the couch, a muted Caesar Flickerman gesturing on the television. Birch heard the door open behind him and turned to see who it was. “Looking for some quiet too?” // @ttwstarters

Thresh hated being back here. That was something he’d come to grips with years ago. He’d done the required mingling, had Holiday help him get through as much of it as he could stomach, before making an escape. He’d gotten better at it through the years, and sneaking away was something that was becoming easier and easier. Maybe he could get a few pointers on that from Pixel, though.

The viewing rooms were usually empty, but Thresh had to smile when he realized it was Birch that had occupied his attempt at a safe space. He’d always liked the guy, and Ten and Eleven were pretty close as far as the outlying Districts went.

“Right on the nose,” he answered as he dumped himself onto the couch next to Birch. “Anything interesting on?”

#was literally gonna throw lael at this before i read it and was like #oh wait lael would make the Least amount of sense here ok thresh it is

Thresh Sorrel Okonjo // 74th Victor. District Eleven Mentor. Twin. Berry Picker. Not An Orphan. Five-Year Hunger Games Veteran. Survivor.

#ttwedit

dreamsbornofgrain‌:

Aspen gave Thresh one of her best rehearsed smiles. 74th… She wouldn’t admit it to Thresh, but those games were a blur to her. She hadn’t watched more than a few minutes of the Games if she was being honest, although she had heard about them. Her family had died in the weeks leading up to the games, so her world had been upside down. Something told her though that Thresh wasn’t the type to want to sit there and reminisce about their experiences in the arena.

So, Aspen shook his hand and give him a nice to meet you. “Lets go this way,” she told him as she motioned to the left. The cameras were to the right and they didn’t need any more of those. “You don’t have to say congratulations.” Aspen told him because she wasn’t sure it felt like she achieved anything other than not dying. “I feel like people are just congratulating me on not dying and it feels weird, you know?”

Thresh followed her as she made her way out of range from the cameras and reporters. Aspen seemed to be one in a line of latest victors who didn’t particularly like the spotlight, then. Besides Jules the Politician and maybe Lincoln the Career, none of the most recent victors seemed particularly happy to be in the limelight... ever.

“Great,” he answered, crossing his arms and shifting onto another foot. “You’re not alone in that, don’t worry.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head, glancing over and realizing they were near the bar. A beer sounded great right now, if he was being honest. These kinds of crowds always made him a little more anxious than he liked to be.

“You drink?” he asked. “I can never tell with people your... age... Um, but I’m getting a beer if you want one.”

dreamsbornofgrain‌:

Over the past few months, Aspen Fields had become good at one thing and it was smiling. As the newest star of Panem, there was people demanding her attention at every turn. Twelve Districts, twelve parties and tonight was the grandest of them all. At least the mansion looked beautiful in accents of gold, blue, and white. It brought a smile to her lips for another reason.

Maisie Fields might have been reaped, but Aspen Fields had won the Games. “Oh, hello!” She greeted the person that had come to a stop behind her. Aspen hadn’t actually made it into the party yet, there had been too many reporters and interviews to do, but she was heading there now. At least she thought that was where she was supposed to be? Her escort had rattled off her scheduled appointments and important people she needed to meet so fast.

“Please don’t tell anyone I don’t know what I am doing,” she admitted softly with an shy laugh.

@ttwstarters

Be nice, go introduce yourself, Chaff had said to Thresh. And while this part of the Games was probably the least painful out of literally all the other moments mentors had to deal with, it was a pain for someone at introverted as he was. Thresh would have been happier to hole himself up in his room and wait it out until he could go back home to Eleven, but apparently that was frowned upon in society.

“No worries,” he held out his hand. “Thresh Okonjo. 74th victor. Um... congratulations.”

Aspen actually did seem like a nice girl, and, like Pixel before her, was an unexpected pick to come out of the Games this year. He’d heard about how she’d had to deal with three or four alliance deaths alone in the first few days, so the fact that she could smile and talk to people was impressive. It was more than Thresh had managed in the first two years past his own Games.

holiday-truehart

Thresh Okonjo’s outfit for the 78th Victory Ball

@thresh-okonjo

“With the golden fields of District Nine as her inspiration, stylist Holiday Truehart has dressed her youngest muse Thresh Okonjo in a shimmering satin waistcoat and matching bow-tie.

“I wanted to keep it simple,” she told our Fashion Fiends reporter. “It’s so easy to go overboard with gold, and it can make the entire outfit look tacky.”

As any Capitolite knows, no outfit is complete without the perfect pair of shoes. These soft golden leather Oxfords with a gentle gradient tie the whole look together.”

Image sources: suit, shoes

#daisy this is so cute!!!!!!

sable-oswald-blog

@ttwstarters

These events had been a lot easier a decade ago. Back then she could live off of two hours of stunted sleep, a few cups of coffee, and a cheese danish. Now as the night dragged on and sponsors dragged her into dances or conversations, she felt the strain of a sleep lost to nightmares. The alcohol was only making it worse and she was itching for a cigarette. (but she’d promised Leo she’d stop and she wasn’t going to give up after three days without one).

She found herself the quietest place possible on the terrace and dropped to the cushions with a sigh, barely nothing anyone in her presence. “I’m getting to old for this shit.”

thresh-okonjo

Thresh’s 23rd birthday had been a week ago, and it was just how he liked it. Quiet. Calm. A couple of beers with his sister and his friends back home in Eleven with his grandmother cooking up mashed potatoes and barbecue. Sure, his birthday was in January and that was summer food, but now that he had more money than he knew what to do with, that kind of thing wasn’t a restriction anymore.

And then he was called to the Capitol, where they celebrated by bringing a whole crew of Capitolites he had met once or twice to a soiree in a fancy bar that lasted all night, and where he was absolutely miserable. Holiday had been in attendance at the very least, but Cosy was off to school now, and Chaff and Seeder hadn’t arrived in the Capitol yet. And now, he was forced into yet another celebration.

At the very least, it wasn’t a celebration of him anymore. Thresh was seated on a cushy bench with a beer in hand when he felt someone take a seat next to him, and recognized one of the mentors from Ten. Birch’s fellow mentor.

“I don’t have that excuse, I think,” he answered, taking a swig from his bottle and wishing it was his third or fourth one instead of his first. “Still doesn’t make it better.”

adrianafontaine‌:

Adriana reached for the drink the Avox handed her with only a nod of acknowledgement. “How long do you think these games are going to go?” She asked the person that had sat down beside her. These games had been going on over a week and she was sure they had to be ending soon, right? Yet there was still half a dozen tributes left and unless a few of them died overnight, the end of the games was likely a few more days out. “Seems like people are getting restless…” Adriana could feel it, why she felt it a little herself and Misty was still alive.

“See that guy over there,” she motioned to her left to the sponsor sitting off in the corner. “He’s guessing another week, but if it goes that long, I might be the one going crazy.” Adriana admitted. Waiting was the hardest part of being involved in the games.

Adriana looked up though as she heard the sound of excited voices coming from the television. “Oh! Is that…?” It certainly looked like some kind of sea creature going after a couple of the tributes. Who was right in the middle of it? None other than Misty. She chewed her lip a moment because District Four might very well lose their chance to bring home a Victor right here and now. “They have legends in Four, you know? Tales about creatures that haunt the deep…” Seems like the Gamemakers were familiar with them too.

@ttwstarters

Thresh had no reason to do anything but watch the Games at this point. His tributes were dead. Cosy had made the decision to leave the escort spot and go to school for something. It was just him, Seeder, Chaff, and Holiday left. And how he found himself sitting around sponsors and trainers he had no clue, but suddenly that redheaded girl from Four was talking to him.

“Uh,” he shrugged. “Couldn’t say, to be honest. It looks like it’s wrapping up, though. There are, what, three? Four tributes left?”

Thresh shook his head. “Not much longer. The audience will get bored.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Legends, huh? So do we. Things that haunt the orchards and the fields and stuff. It’s why there are still scarecrows, even nowadays, you know? My grandma would tell us what would happen if we stayed in the fields past midnight and it wasn’t pretty.”

Another thing that wasn’t pretty? Whatever it was that was emerging from the depths of this water. Thresh felt immediately grateful he hadn’t had the danger of drowning in his own arena.

larktimbers‌:

“that’s fine, thresh. you’re welcome here. It’s just me and the twins.” and a few sponsors, but they weren’t really talking to lark. just mason, in the corner. whenever lark brought up money, they seemed to brush her off. i already gave funds this year, dear. or her favorite, seven just won. you’re an outer district, don’t get greedy.

she was greedy. she wanted to save a girl she loved’s life.

“well. mason’s in the corner, but you know…” lark kept her cool, quiet and calm facade. she was fine with this. fine. “you don’t like kids, right? here, i’ll keep mea away. the games are on low, but subtitles are on, so…”

“No, it’s fine,” Thresh reassured. “I don’t mind kids, just don’t really... know how to interact with them, I guess.”

Aster was the one at home that interacted with all the kids in the orchards. Where Thresh had worked, down in the fields and bushes before his victory, picking berries and root vegetables, he hadn’t interacted much with the smaller kids who worked with him. His twin sister Aster, on the other hand, had taken several of the kids under her wing.

Not like she had to anymore. She couldn’t bring herself to after Rue died.

“You know,” Thresh pointed out, pushing that thought to the back of his head. “I’m a twin. Not that many people know that, but I have a younger twin sister.”

larktimbers‌:

boy was dead but laurel was still kicking. it brought a smile to lark’s face to see her alive on the seventh day. jules’s arena hadn;t lasted this long. if laurel had gone this far, she could go all the way. or, it seemed plausable.

she didn’t mean to undercut a death from her district. it hurt. but it was just getting larel closer to another lark hug. so she didn’t break. instead, she double downed. currently, she was sitting in the viewing room, watching one of the sponsors (demetria daylight, if that was her name) holding mason’s hands to ‘help him walk around’. well, lark wasn’t going to tell her mason could walk just fine. she just bounced mea on her knee and looked up at another face.

“did you want to sit? here, i’ll move their jackets.” she’d taken them off the twins and put them on her lap. Mea was now just sitting on top of blankets.

“so… what brings you here?”

@ttwstarters

Thresh needed to get into one of the viewing rooms, catch up on whatever was going on. He hadn’t been paying much attention after his kids died so early in the Games, and it seemed like it was finally whittling down to the final four or five.

Lark Timbers sat in a viewing area, her kids crawling or toddling or whatever it was kids this age did all over the room, and by the time Thresh was just thinking to turn around and walk away it was too late. He wasn’t about to say “no thank you” just because there were kids in the room if only for fear of being called out on it.

“Sure,” he answered with a small smile. “Just.. trying to get up-to-date with the arena stuff. I haven’t been following much. How are you doing, Lark?”

holiday-truehart‌:

She lifted her hand to his, holding it against her face for a moment before realising what she was doing and hastily letting it fall back to her side.

“I’m not drunk enough to dance,” she said, a giggle escaping through her tears. “And we don’t have any music.” Still, she found herself reaching up to loop her arms around his neck.

“Veni, Veni Bella, Cum guadio,” she sang softly to rectify their second problem at least. As Holiday had grown older, her parents had decided she would stand out more amongst other young actresses if she could also sing and dance. This was a song from one of her childhood tutors- a particularly nasty one who used to poke her in the back with a walking stick if her posture slipped.

“You must have some dances in Eleven that we don’t have here.” Her cheeks flushed slightly as she looked up at him. Had his eyes always been this pretty? People never gushed over brown eyes in the Capitol, not when they could be yellow or purple or bright neon pink. But she couldn’t see why they wouldn’t, not when she looked at Thresh.

“Teach me something?” she asked hopefully.

“You wanna get drunk?” Thresh offered. “We can if you want! There’s probably a reason a whole bunch of the other victors spend the Games drunk as hell. I can get... what you do you want? I can get you a drink. We have enough to drink, we don’t even need music.”

But she’d begun singing, and Thresh let his mouth soften into a smile with her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yeah, we have a few,” he answered. “Nothing to go with anything soft like that, though. My dad used to play music for my sister and I. He had a fiddle. I don’t know if they use those here, but they’re like... like violins?”

This was probably the first time Thresh had mentioned his father here in the Capitol, and something small dropped into his stomach. Because remembering his dad meant remembering just where his dad was. Which was... somewhere close. But he’d never see him again no matter how close the proximity was. The Capitol had assured that.

“Maybe you know something... a little more appropriate for the occasion,” he told her, wiping that thought from his mind.

#tw: under the influence #whoops that took over a week

serenity-garcia‌:

Serenity was on cloud nine. She had just came back from lunch with her madre. Everything had lined up perfectly and even though Dahlia was still in the Arena, she managed to convince the higher-ups that she could head out into the Capitol for a meal with Captain Luciana García of the Capitol Battalion. Her belly was full, her cheeks were kissed a few too many times, and she had laughed and caught up with her mom.

She wished she could take her mom on a tour of the Tower, but Luciana had to get back to her duties. Luciana did manage to walk her daughter back to the front of the Tower, her helmet tucked under her arm. Serenity hugged her mom goodbye just outside the promenade up to the front steps. “I’ll miss you,” she murmured into her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you too, baby,” Luciana replied, before she stepped back and put her helmet on. With a wave she began to make her way down the street back to her office.

Serenity watched her mom walk away and turned to head into the Tower, running into someone’s body. “What the –“ she started, looking up to the person she ran into. “We’re both a little distracted, huh?”

// @ttwstarters

Thresh had essentially nothing to do now. It was a position he was used to. His tributes nearly always died in the bloodbath, and since this year was no exception, it was back to normal, he supposed. Holiday had gotten him to leave the suite a bit more than he liked, but after years of Chaff attempting to get him downstairs it was probably time.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing or where he was going quite yet, kind of wandering around and taking int he scenery. People watching was a good way to pass the time, and it hit him that he probably should’ve sat down to let his mind wander when he was suddenly running into a woman who was turning away from the door into the Tower.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized. “Yeah, seems like it. You ok?”

cosydelightly‌:

“I’m sorry, Thresh,” she said, looking at him with full sincerity. “I’ll try to be less dramatic in the future.” The way he’d panicked when her head was slumped on the table was something she noted. A trigger of his. Something to remember. No dramatic fake table deaths around the guy who had been in the Arena - it should’ve been common sense.

“It’s important to talk, though,” Cosy said, her brow furrowed in concern. She hopped out of her seat and folded the papers back into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder. “Holding all of it inside isn’t healthy either, Thresh. You can talk to me about anything, alright? And now we’re going to have tea.” She waved him behind her, heels clattering merrily over the floor as she strutted toward the elevator.

“I mean, I don’t know about that,” Thresh shrugged. “You’re good, I just haven’t gotten over my arena... jumpiness four years later. Doesn’t make much sense, but, you know, what does?”

Tea. Thresh didn’t know if he’d ever even had tea before. Every time it was offered to him, he’d declined in favor of coffee or water. Tea had always felt so... uppity and high class. That victor from One was always drinking tea. It was a rich people drink.

Then again, Thresh supposed, he was rich now.

“All right,” he agreed softly. “Whatever you say, Cosy.”

holiday-truehart‌:

“Yeah.” Holiday sighed. “Even in districts like Two, you probably lose more tributes than you don’t.” She continued to run her thumb over Thresh’s knuckles absently.

Was this how it was going to be every year? Was she going to get attached only to have her heart broken within the first half hour after launch?

She thought of her mother, alone with her servants in the mansion Holiday had grown up in. It would be so easy to just go to her. Hand in her resignation. She could insist on only taking on acting roles that were PG, even if they weren’t as high-profile as their more adult counterparts. She’d have her old childhood bedroom, with the little glittery stars and the sun-catcher in the window. Her mother would scold her if she cried, just like before.

No, she told herself firmly. No, she was a stylist now. This was where she belonged, what she was supposed to be doing. And part of that was watching children die. She’d known that when she applied for the position.

Holiday realised with a start that she was properly crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mascara must be ruined. And it wasn’t over Farm or Strawberry but the concept of seeing her mother.

She was mortified, and annoyed with herself. Her priorities were entirely skewed and she hated it.

“I’m not crying,” she sobbed unconvincingly. “Does pacing help?” Maybe she should pace, too.

Holiday was crying. Oh geez, she was crying. Thresh wasn’t good at that. What was he supposed to do with a crying woman? Aster didn’t really cry. The girls in the orchards knew better than to cry in public.

“Uh... here,” he walked around to the front of the couch and reached his hand out towards Holiday in an effort to pull her up. “Pacing just... for me it’s more of an anxiety thing, but it doesn’t hurt to get up and move.”

Get up and move? What was he, a fitness instructor? She had some smudged makeup under her eye and Thresh reached out to wipe it off, not realizing he had touched her face out of nowhere until it was too late. That was probably awkward.

“Remember a few months ago? At the garden party?” he continued. “We were crazy drunk, and you made me dance and it made you happy so maybe you just need to dance a little bit right now.”

#!!!!!!

cxntinuum‌:

as soon as finnick heard the voice of thresh, finnick perked up even more. finnick found that there was something equally fascinating and jarring about the youngest victor from district eleven. district four had done particularly badly in the seventy-four games and formidable outlier had done commendably well. he didn’t really get him though, he was quiet and seemed too irritable for finnick’s liking - but he was in such a good mood, he didn’t care.

“well if it isn’t the life and soul of the party! well as it turns out, i know you were curious, and yes, thresh i think you would make a fine pirate as well.”

Thresh nodded back at Finnick. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

Chaff had made fun of him for how concise Thresh usually was, but if he didn’t have anything to say, he wouldn’t say it. That wasn’t exactly a good way to make friends and allies, though, and Thresh knew that. Farm and Strawberry might not have gone so quickly if he’d talked with other victors a little more, secured some alliances in case they couldn’t do it on their own.

Granted, alliances weren’t exactly Thresh’s forte. He seemed to be with Jules and Pixel in a pattern of former lone-wolf tributes who had somehow come out victorious.

“I can be the life of the party,” he remarked. “Just maybe not this party.”

cxntinuum‌:

district four had done well in the bloodbath, there no cheek biting incident from them, misty had done well and secured two kills. it was obvious that she had expected some sort of alliance judging by the way she acted before heading to the island, but with the arena so heavily in her favour - it was clear as day that she didn’t need them. so, naturally finnick was in high spirits and it was obvious for everyone to see, and when finnick was in high spirits he spoke, a lot.

“you know there have been stories about pirates floating about with sailors and fisherman from four since before the dark days.” his dad would tell him the stories to scare him, but instead finnick became slightly obsessed. “i think i’d look pretty fantastic in the pirate get up those tributes have on, don’t you think?”

@ttwstarters

Thresh had been restless since the bloodbath, which was different for him. Usually at this point he was cooped up in his room, watching whatever shitty reruns of a reality show were on the only channel not showing the Hunger Games. But he was working on it, on leaving the Eleven suite even when he wasn’t obligated to.

And there was Finnick Odair, the preening peacock himself. At least that was what his reputation seemed to be from Thresh’s perspective. He didn’t know the guy. He knew he was a Career mentor, which wasn’t great, but Thresh wasn’t in much of a mood to put on his surly, grumpy facade that had gotten him through the Games. It was less exhausting to just go along with whatever other people said.

“Sure,” Thresh answered. “Whatever you say.”

holiday-truehart‌:

She reached up to take his hand, wrapping her fingers around his, and set her damp handkerchief down in her lap. It was within reach should she need it, but she didn’t just then. She could wait; wait and hope that her eyes wouldn’t start leaking again.

“How are you holding up?” she asked, tilting her head back slightly so that she could see him, even if he was at an odd angle. “You’re pacing. Are you alright?”

Holiday ran the pad of her thumb along his knuckles absently, drawing comfort from having him close by.

As Holiday held his hand over her shoulder, Thresh couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. This situation... having to watch the kids he mentored die every single year... was awful. More than awful. But he was glad there was someone else here, someone else in the Eleven suite who was near his age, who could empathize with him every year Eleven inevitably lost its tributes.

Chaff and Seeder were wonderful. But they were so much older than Thresh. Their empathy could only extend so far.

“I’m good,” Thresh answered, not entirely truthful. “I pace every year. The Cornucopia is... you know, it makes me nervous. For good reason. It just feels like... you know, Eleven doesn’t really do well, and I’m supposed to help these kids out of the arena and... I don’t know.”

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