— welcome to 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒔 . . 💭!
mumu blog for eventiderpg ; penned by am, twenty4, gmt+7
ᰋ̱ ۪ ࣪ ﹙☆﹚ ࣪ ִ madge undersee ; tags ; credits l 𝆬 ‹3
ᰋ̱ ۪ ࣪ ﹙☆﹚ ࣪ ִ anna ; tags ; credits l 𝆬 ‹3

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@underseetruths
— welcome to 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒔 . . 💭!
mumu blog for eventiderpg ; penned by am, twenty4, gmt+7
ᰋ̱ ۪ ࣪ ﹙☆﹚ ࣪ ִ madge undersee ; tags ; credits l 𝆬 ‹3
ᰋ̱ ۪ ࣪ ﹙☆﹚ ࣪ ִ anna ; tags ; credits l 𝆬 ‹3
"Oh, thank you," Calista replied. Her parents had spent months debating names before settling on Calista and Cato. Her mother had wanted a strong name for her son but a beautiful name for her daughter. Calista was always told that her name meant beauty but Cato's name meant all-knowing. Cato used to tease her about it, and it used to make Calista so mad. But now? Now she would take the teasing back in a heartbeat. It had been so petty as most sibling arguments were, and she missed it. Sometimes she thought that her name was pretentious and she worried that people thought differently of her because of her name. She knew it was probably all in her head. "Anna's a beautiful name," she complimented. It was simple but elegant, and not at all pretentious.
Turning back to the glass display with her brother's armor, she gestured towards it. "He was my brother," she replied softly. "Cato. I guess...I just found my way here, you know?" Calista replied. "What about you? What brings you in here?" She couldn't imagine what it was like, facing the Quarter Quell, facing the arena. She didn't envy any of the tributes, especially because they had thought that they were safe.
anna's eyes subtly scrutinised the other woman in the room, her gaze attentively tracing from her face to her attire before returning to her expression. it was an instinctive habit she couldn't quite explain, but one she had always indulged. reading people had been a fascination of hers; beyond their spoken words and overt actions, she found the unspoken signals to be far more intriguing. with a hint of harshness, she concealed her envy and responded, “ thank you. i came up with it myself, ” while secretly wondering about the origin of calista's name. following calista's line of sight, anna's eyes settled on a familiar outfit encased within a glass display. the harsh illumination made it challenging to discern the details, but after a moment, she managed. her thoughts wandered, imagining if she, like cato, would have her arena attire showcased in a similar glass enclosure next year. would her loved ones, morgan and her father, visit her ?? or would she be left to endure her fate alone ?? suddenly, the words escaped her lips before she could stop them, “ i'm sorry about your brother. ” the silence that followed felt interminable, anna grappling with her choice of words. “ i saw how he . . . died. ” she wanted to retract her statement instantly, berating herself for uttering such inconsiderate words to someone who was clearly mourning. “ i mean . . . ” she cut herself off, realising it was best to halt the conversation before causing more pain for both of them.
Madge repeats about his favorite color in a way that suggests she doesn't understand it. "A recent discovery," he tells her. "Once I really had a chance to just sit and look at the sunset. It's pretty in Twelve, but you should see it in Four. Over the sea like that? There's little prettier than tha'." Katniss, maybe, he thinks. She's prettier than the sunset. He doesn't say it though.
And, just as Madge had been for him, Peeta tilts his head in confusion of her favorite color. "White? Why, that hardly seems like a color. What makes ya like it so much?" He dreams in color - it's something he's always done, since he was a child. He hadn't realized when he was young that not everyone does that. "White is one of the most important colors when paintin', though, I'll give ya that. You can't do a proper mixin' without it."
He gives her a gentle smile when she says that Pa is right about making the same kinds of bread. There's something in her words, the softness of them when usually she's so even, that tells Peeta she might just understand what he'd meant. Even the most privileged in Twelve - and Madge certainly is - understands hardship.
"How ya findin' the Capitol?" he asks and there's a gentleness in his tone, too.
madge found peeta's choice of orange as his most preferred colour rather peculiar, considering his typically subdued taste. the recent memory of effie trinket's vibrant hair during the recent reaping day crossed her mind, but peeta's explanation, likening orange to the hues of a sunset, brought a newfound understanding. “ i'll have to take your word on that, ” she replied, realising that her opportunities to visit other districts were currently limited. perhaps in the distant future, when she assumed the role of mayor, she would have the chance to explore beyond district 12, although such prospects remained uncertain. as madge continued to survey the surroundings, discreetly anticipating the arrival of another tray of delectable treats, she nodded in agreement. “ white embodies innocence and offers a clean slate, ” she remarked, turning to peeta with a warm smile. “ it reminds me that no matter how much one may have stumbled in the past, there will always be the opportunity for a fresh start when they turn the page. ” madge acknowledged her idealistic view of the world, acknowledging that it may be seen as naive, but it was a perspective she held onto. reflecting on the demanding week that had transpired, madge confided in her companions, “ this entire week has left me quite exhausted. ” memories of the tense preparations for katniss and peeta's wedding, her unexpected encounter with hazelle, and the startling letter she had received from haymitch flashed through her mind. she considered herself fortunate to have been the first to discover the letter, as the consequences could have been dire if someone else had come across it. “ and how are you and katniss holding up ?? ” she inquired, genuinely concerned about their well-being.
the mayor's daughter is ever respectful. she calls him by his surname, something her friend from district twelve also does. at least given the status of role she played at the district twelve's victors' wedding would imply a closeness to katniss everdeen. the integrity of the union is questionable, but the strategy was impeccable. their former mentor would not comment on the sincerity when beetee whispered a pondering at the reception. ( though haymitch also had countless beverages by then. ) " it's an excellent means of speaking to more sponsors which is ideal, " he remarks about the afterparty. " has it been enjoyable for you ? " sometimes lottery winners marveled, especially those from outlier districts that traveled a considerable distance.
and marvel does she, as the young woman takes in the sight before her. there's an undeniable sincerity in the reaction. he allows himself to take in the familiarity as well. his favorite aspect was the wall of cellular devices. below each listed an approximate year of creation ; spend enough time and one will read about how there is still an assortment of other phones that panem has been incapable in recovering. history is fascinating. " most of the creation came before i even became a victor alas. architecture isn't my strong suit. the board has approached me in the past in regards to understanding how certain devices can function. that's the most i've provided to the museum however. "
madge's gaze shifted from the room's captivating surroundings as the victor addressed her. with a genuine smile, she responded, “ if i may be honest, this event has worn me out, but i am grateful for the opportunity to explore this remarkable museum. ” her eyes wandered again, taking in the breathtaking setting before her. “ i have encountered countless wonders within the pages of my father's extensive library, yet nothing quite compares to the magnificence i am witnessing here. ” though struggling to keep pace with the flood of information imparted by the esteemed gentleman by her side, madge maintained an expression of unwavering interest. “ mr. latier, i believe you underestimate your own contributions to the capitol. i am confident that you have made significant and enduring impacts, and i have no doubt that your influence will continue to shape this city for the better. ”
madge undersee had the diplomacy of her father, perhaps it's even inherited. she has the uncanny ability to respond to a question while completely evading providing an answer at times. most figureheads of the districts develop this skill overtime. miss undersee is but a young woman of only twenty-five. ( how impressive indeed ! ) if she remains flourishing the way she does, she'll make for a good replacement of her alcoholic patriarch. may she usher in a new age for district twelve, and quell the oxygen required for flames to grow unnecessarily rampant.
" of course, my dear. such decisions cannot lay with a dull-heart, nor should they be made with haste. i only encourage a sooner decision as you're already twenty-five. don't be wasteful with your youth and potential. an education in the capitol opens tremendous doors. there's a certain sublime factor in someone from district twelve thriving. do you not wish to represent your home ? you would evoke endless pride, i hold zero doubt. " his voice does not falter, only adding to the confidence in the words he speaks. coriolanus only finds one fault in the young woman before him, and that's the unfortunate company she keeps.
it was a rare occurrence for madge, to lose control of a conversation, particularly one with the most influential person she had ever encountered. yet, there she stood, astonished before president snow, struggling to find the appropriate words to respond to his flurry of compliments ( or what she presumed were compliments ) and inquiries. however, one significant observation caught her attention — the president displayed a peculiar level of interest in her. while some might argue that it was merely her imagination, attributing his attention to her status as the daughter of district 12's mayor, another part of her intuited that there was more beneath the surface. the events of the past year had taught her that there was always an underlying layer beyond what met the eye. she composed herself, maintaining a poised demeanour, as she responded to president snow's persuasive words. “ thank you for your insightful perspective, president snow. i appreciate your recognition of the importance of thoughtful decision-making and the value of seizing opportunities. ” while she understood the potential doors that an education in the capitol can open, she believed it is essential to weigh the impact and responsibilities that come with representing district twelve. her commitment lies in finding the most meaningful way to contribute to the well-being and progress of her home, and her focus right now is to continue exploring avenues that align with these values and aspirations of hers.
@mxllitiam it had been several days since she last encountered gale . . . well, 'encountered' is not quite the appropriate word – witnessed is probably more suitable. it was the previous sunday, a day she vividly remembered due to her rare day off from her duties (which she typically spent tending to her garden). the memory of that day remained etched in her mind, as she doubted she would forget the events that transpired anytime soon. while perusing the market in search of seeds to purchase, madge noticed a flurry of activity as vendors began hastily packing up their wares. she realised it was still early january, and the sun would soon set, but she hadn't expected the market to close at such an early hour. approaching a stall that seemed to be open (or perhaps in the process of closing, as it was hard for madge to discern), she made a passing observation, " seems like everyone is eager to head home today. " " didn't you hear ? " " what about ? " " a new peacekeeper just came and an earlier curfew has been imposed. that's why everyone are packing. i live close by. " " oh. " she replied, she was never told that a new peacekeeper is coming in today ? maybe her father know more about this ? why didn't he tell her ? " they also said someone got beat up . " madge stayed silent, she was not sure if she wanted to listen to the rest of what the seller had to say. " it was a cousin of katniss. you know – the tall one. " gale. " gale ? " she reached out again, this time searching for his eyes. he seemed distracted. she was stood on the steps outside of her house, across the boy who was stood just a little out of reach – but she did not want to stand any closer to him. neither of them had exchanged any words since her initial greeting of " hello " a few minutes ago. " they told me you came by to see me ? "
cheer deepens between them in a way hardly felt tonight by the victor, and madge's laughter shows it, accompanied by the widening of katniss' smirk into a smile. it is only when gale is brought up that the light dims a little in both of them. on that horrifying day thread made himself known as the new head peacekeeper of twelve, madge had come to the everdeen's with leftover medicine for gale — katniss had burned at the sight of it, torn between jealousy and despair and gratefulness because she didn't want to see gale in pain, and the morphiling gifted by madge presented that. then, she had wondered what was there, behind gale's annoyance towards the mayor's daughter, and madge's act of unprompted kindness; jealousy doesn't ring now, though, only curiosity and even that is dulled by reason. of course madge cared for gale, in a way. wasn't she going to be mayor one day? and she was a good person. and they were friends forever, so it was natural she wanted gale not to be miserable or in pain, because katniss might have felt the same, if she knew madge's other friends.
"he is as we could expect if someone had taken his mama and is about to kill her in front of ‘im." the words are less than soft, but it's hard to watch her language when that fact still makes her angry. katniss purses her lips, trying, and shakes her head. "he didn't want to be here, of course. none of us wanted him, or hazelle here. so it's… tough." to say the least. "four is not… a good score." katniss confides, voicing what she had told herself not to linger in, after talking to peeta. but it's hard to escape, hard to filter herself, especially when she's around someone of comfort. she raises her eyes to madge as she speaks, and it seems they've both come to the same realization: condolences may be the better word, because hazelle may as well be on her burial clothing as she walks around the room, preened up to her discomfort and the capitolites' pleasure.
she sighs, gives madge another glance. "your daddy graduated from here?" they don't talk much about mr. undersee. they used to, when they were smaller, and mrs. undersee was still alive — katniss sort of liked the mayor, in a way that she knew he tried, but there was only so much he could do; he was kind to her family, too, and that wasn't the norm for townies (perhaps his prejudice didn't run as deep as others because he had been friends, or at the very least, acquaintances with lilian, when she was the apothecary's daughter, rather than another miner's wife). "if you don't want to, hopefully you don't need it for runnin' a town. wouldn't like ya here, all by yourself." whilst katniss is here, sure. but she dreads to imagine how the president may spin madge into another object of torture, ever at his grasp, lead to suffering all because of katniss.
tw: anxious thoughts, thoughts about vomiting
as the weight of silence settled between them once more, madge reminisced on the countless occasions they had danced to the rhythm of this familiar song. it followed a predictable pattern: a challenging question was posed, met with silence, then answered, followed by another bout of silence before moving on to the next difficult inquiry. madge couldn't deny occasional thoughts of longing for different circumstances, yearning for alternate topics to explore. however, she recognised the inevitability of fate and its immutable course. the impact of her question about gale was palpable, evident in the rapid shifts in katniss' countenance. though she considered offering an apology to redirect the conversation, the opportunity had slipped away, leaving madge to rue the foolishness of her inquiry. as she listened intently to every word that flowed from katniss' mouth, madge's legs weakened beneath her, threatening to give way. each sentence carried a weight that seemed to burden her physically, causing her stomach to churn with waves of nausea. the intensity of the emotions stirred within her, rendering her momentarily disoriented and vulnerable to the overwhelming sensations that surged through her body. madge contemplated recounting her recent encounter with hazelle, which had taken place just days ago, right after the harrowing experience of the reaping. the unexpected invitation from the grieving widow had caught madge off guard, as their prior interactions had been limited to mere exchanges of a couple of sentences. nevertheless, she felt compelled to comply, understanding the significance of offering companionship to someone facing their imminent demise. if she were to share this experience with katniss, madge preferred a more secluded setting, away from the prying eyes of the party. additionally, she pondered delving further into her thoughts regarding pursuing a university education in the capitol, acknowledging that her conversation with the president had sparked a seed of consideration within her. with a gentle tug on katniss' hand, she encouraged the victor to follow her lead, suggesting, " c'mon, let's talk somewhere else. " a corner of the room caught her attention, appearing less crowded and more conducive to private conversation. as they neared the secluded corner, a sudden shift in tone emanated from the holograms, capturing madge's focus. she pivoted, observing the collective gaze of the crowd fixated on the hovering screens, their expressions ranging from concern to anticipation. with a brief glance at katniss, madge struggled to discern the emotions etched upon her face before another jarring noise pierced the air. compelled by her curiosity, she redirected her gaze towards one of the holograms, gradually succumbing to a growing sense of horror. as the scenes unfolded on the screen, madge's countenance transformed, registering a mixture of shock and dread. she closed her eyes then, not wanting to see the rest of it.
Taking another look at the woman standing there, Calista suddenly realized that she was one of the Tributes, and guilt filled her stomach. Why had she snapped?
Calista had known plenty of the Tributes that went before Cato, had gone to school with some of them, had trained with some, and looked up to others. It wasn't until Cato had volunteered that she had really thought about what it was like to be here and to go through all of the interviews and the preparation. It must have been exhausting. Calista was exhausted and she was only a lottery winner. The tributes being older...it seemed...harder, somehow. "I am," she replied, turning away from the armor and facing the other woman again. "I'm Calista Hearting. You're...from One, right?"
At her question, she raised an eyebrow. "To the Capitol? Or...to this room?" It was strange, to find the one room that held Cato's armor, the armor that had been sent to him because they were so sure that he was going to win. And yet...in the end...she hated to think of the end. It was far too painful. There had been moments that felt like he was still there...and she wondered if his spirit had somehow led her here.
tw: discussions of pregnancy anna approached calista with deliberate poise, offering her a warm smile. " what a beautiful name. " she complimented. there were many desires that anna knew she didn't necessarily need but yearned for deeply, and having a name that exuded beauty and meaning was among them. while 'anna' was the name bestowed upon her by her father — an uncomplicated and practical choice — she had always longed for something more profound, a name that carried greater significance. this was why, during her pregnancy, she spent eight months deliberating and eventually chose the name 'morgan' for her daughter. the name had first captivated her years ago while reading a book for school, and she stumbled upon it again in the library of one of her clients while she was expecting. he had shared that his family held a distinguished lineage, possessing remnants of their ancestral heritage from before the first rebellion — a notion she found intriguing yet elusive. with a graceful bow, anna introduced herself, saying, " anna. the one and only. " a sense of curiosity arose within her as she wondered why someone as lovely as calista would be alone in a room as cold and dimly lit as this. prompted by her genuine interest, she inquired once more, " the festivities are taking place outside. why don't you join them ? "
She says she doesn't like things too sweet and he gets that, but it's a luxury he never had growing up. His diet consisted of whatever was leftover from the bakery. Maybe it's why he's not as into the desserts as Katniss is. Upon coming to the Capitol last year for the Games, his teeth were brittle, hurting at cool air or sometimes if he bit down too hard. Like everything else about him, his prep team had fixed that error.
He hums in agreement, but says no more about it. Anything other than extremely grateful to the Capitol would do no good here. Instead, he listens to her talk about strawberry pastries. "Your pa usedta buy strawberries from Katniss, right?" He keeps it simple, not telling her that Katniss would find them beyond the fence. After Gale this winter, that would do no good. He remembers hearing about it from Katniss, though. They've had plenty of time to talk before bed, both of them fighting off sleep and nightmares for long enough to finally learn about one another outside the act they've been forced to play.
"I'm glad you're enjoying something here, then," he says, making sure to keep his voice light, even. It's a barely-there slight at the Capitol and all that he'll get to do here.
He adverts his eyes to the Avox just as he was taught a year ago - not wanting to bring more harm to the unfortunate person who's tongue has been cut out - but accepts the orange pastry from Madge. "My favorite color," he muses absently, a mumble against his smile, and takes a bite.
It's got a bitter sort of sweet taste to it and he chews slowly, trying to decipher the ingredients. Some sort of pecan on top, caramel in the center, a delicious mix swirling together, just enough crunch. He wishes he could bring it home to Rye to taste, his eldest brother being the one in charge of the pastries back home.
It's like Madge can read minds because she asks exactly that. "Yeah, I was actually just thinkin' about that," he says with a laugh. "Some of 'em might make it, if we wrapped it in that special paper they have here. But who knows how long ago these were made, ya know? Gotta be somethin' new, fresh, if I were gonna do that. Not sure they'd really be interested, though. The same old stuff sells back home all the time. My pa says... ain't broke, don't fix it."
He doesn't explain that the reason it's all the same stuff is because it's all people can afford. He assumes she'd know that, even as the mayor's daughter. The one family that could probably buy anything they wanted in the store.
madge undersee can be described in countless ways, but above all, she epitomised politeness. throughout her life, she had mastered the art of self-control. whenever food and drinks were served, madge would patiently abnegate, ensuring that everyone else was served before indulging herself. however, she found it impossible to contain her excitement as she held a delectable - looking dessert in her hands. taking a bite, she marvelled at the soft and moist texture, carrot cake perhaps ? memories flooded her mind of her mother, who would occasionally make similar treats using limited ingredients in district 12, where even the mayor's wife faced culinary constraints. madge cherished those moments when her mother emerged from her room for more than a fleeting moment, dedicating precious time to create something special for her. although her mother's culinary skills were not exceptional ( nor was her own, to be fair ), madge appreciated every effort. spending time with her mother in the kitchen held a special place in her heart. in later years, when she yearned for her mother's presence, madge would attempt to recreate her dishes, but they never quite matched the original taste. nevertheless, she savoured those imperfectly replicated creations, for wasting food was never an option in her eyes. after discreetly examining the dessert on peeta's plate, now slightly dishevelled from his eager sampling, madge concluded that it was essentially the same cake, albeit with a different coloured glaze on top. " orange is your favourite colour ? " madge found it an intriguing choice, though she couldn't pinpoint why. " mine is white. " her thoughts shifted to the families in district 12, both in the town and the seam. peeta's remark held undeniable truth. the majority of families in district 12 were unfamiliar with luxury, as circumstances afforded them no other option. depending on their daily income and the number of mouths to feed, the residents had to make tough choices, often sacrificing quality for affordability, prioritising sustenance over preference. offering peeta a gentle smile, madge acknowledged, " your father is absolutely right. " she momentarily considered delving into a conversation about peeta's own family but restrained herself, not wanting to derail the current exchange. nevertheless, the notion of sharing these delightful treats with the younger children back home lingered in her mind. perhaps she could bring some for prim and allow her to share them with her school friends. alternatively, she could pack a few for hazelle's boys, honouring her promise to look after them to the best of her ability.
continued from here — @underseetruths
Madge's presence in the Capitol alongside her son's has sent Hazelle into a near spiral. It's too obvious, and it's clear the stakes are too high this year. Hazelle has never quite believed in the rigging of the Games that some mothers blame when their sons or daughters are taken — she believes in the tesserae they take out year after year and the names that are entered into the bowl dozens of times. The Games are always rigged against the masses that can't afford to live, not one individual. But this year is different, and she knew that better than anyone when her name was called. Her reaping is an obvious punishment for the Capitol's Girl on Fire — and having her two closest friends there to witness it seems like icing on the cake.
So yes, Hazelle is worried about Gale. She's worried what they'll do to him when she's thrown to the slaughter — if he'll be able to go back home or if they'll execute him right before Katniss' eyes. Rationally, she knows there isn't anything Madge Undersee can do to stop any of that. She may be the mayor's daughter but she's got no pull here in the Capitol — to these people, she's just another faceless barbarian from Twelve like the rest of them. But part of her hopes she can keep an eye on Gale, that she can keep the fire that's been lit under him from consuming him whole in a way that Katniss can't (not because she doesn't want to, but Hazelle sees that same fire in Katniss too — it's one she could find buried deep within herself, if she looked hard enough.)
"I was just hoping you could tell me what it's like for you all when we're training and everything," she starts, eyeing Madge to decide if the blonde can see right through her pitiful attempt at refraining from outright asking 'is my son keeping out of trouble?' "I just worry they're not lettin' you all have a minute to breathe, that's all."
hazelle's words hung in the air for a few moments. madge initially remained silent, absorbing every word from the older woman across from her. with utmost attentiveness, she listened as hazelle hawthorne poured out her deepest fears, unveiling a request that madge knew was inevitable. as the only child of the mayor, madge was well aware that one day she would inherit her father's responsibilities. it should not have surprised her that a disadvantaged woman from the seam would approach her seeking assistance. in the end, they were all victims of the capitol's brutality, and no citizen of any district could escape its grasp. yet, despite her knowledge, madge found herself speechless, sitting face-to-face with hazelle hawthorne. it should not surprise her, but it did. with her mouth slightly agape and her mind racing for an answer. hazelle's question was succinct, but the weight of her worries resonated in the air. madge possessed a natural empathy and keen observational skills, allowing her to discern the underlying emotions in people's words. this conversation, however, carried a different energy that eluded precise explanation. “ i stay at the house, ms. hawthorne. i watch the games like everyone else in the district, “ madge replied, her voice conveying a mixture of empathy and understanding. growing up, madge had always carried a certain stigma. she was acutely aware that the mothers of her school friends harboured reservations toward her. they would put on a polite front, inviting her to their homes for dinner, but madge overheard their whispered conversations, filled with disparaging remarks. she had learned to cope with such treatment, understanding that she couldn't be universally liked. however, when those discussions turned to her late mother, it hurt madge deeply. yet, hazelle had never engaged in such gossip, and madge had always held a deep respect for her. as madge attempted to speak once more, she noticed her voice falter, barely producing a sound. summoning her strength, she tried again, her determination heightened. “ ms. hawthorne, “ she began, her voice more resolute, “ i promise you that i will do everything in my power to ensure the safety and well-being of your family. “ summoning her courage, she rose from her seat and approached hazelle, reaching out to clasp her hand in a gesture of support.
Cadence was used to the decadence that surrounded the Capitol. It was hard to avoid here. She often found herself looking at people and wondering if it was their true hair colour. She'd managed to avoid her stylists dying her hair. It had been her on choice over the last year to dye the front pieces of her hair a white colour. It was in a bid to stop herself looking like Clove so much. Of course that was now made a lot harder, since they apparently had a thing about dressing her up like her sister. But Cadie was trying her hardest to stay her own person.
She disliked herself in the Capitol though. The dresses and heavy make up they put her in really were not her. She would have much been in her comfy clothes, hanging out in the tribute centre. That was where Cadence tended to spend most of her time. Even when the games was going on she tended to spend a lot of time in the District 2 areas. Last year had been an exception where she had spent more time in the Victor Lounge. If she'd been able to get closer to the Mentor's Lounge she would have, having wanted to be as close to all the updates about Clove's sponsorships as she could have been. It still frustrated her to no end that she hadn't been allowed in there, considering it was her sister in the games. But she had, and still did, trusted Thea unconditionally, so it had mostly been okay. Until it hadn't.
"Are you feeling ready for the Arena?" It was a genuine question. She could still remember the night before her games. It had been both exciting and terrifying. "It's a strange experience.... I remember it well."
tw: implied gore
as anna attentively listened to cadence, she took her time to observe the appearance of the victor. while they had never interacted in person prior to this evening, anna was familiar with cadence's prominence both in her home district and the capitol. she had often pondered what life would be like as a victor — an individual who defied the odds and emerged from the games not only alive but stronger. naturally, she would never dare ask these questions to a victor from another district, as her father would have her head. nevertheless, anna allowed herself to wonder. one notable aspect that caught her attention was cadence's striking hair. unlike the extravagant and eccentric hairstyles of capitol citizens ( she swore a few days ago she walked past someone with towering structures resembling intricate architectural wonders, adorned with an assortment of colorful feathers, jewels, and cascading ribbons ) cadence's hair with its white highlights possessed an understated allure that compelled anyone to take a second glance. did her stylist specifically instruct her to dye her hair ? anna found it difficult to imagine someone like cadence obediently adhering to every instruction given. perhaps it was a personal choice ? if so, anna had to admit that the district two victor possessed exceptional taste. upon hearing cadence's question, anna took a moment to reflect and formulate a response. in all honesty, she was consumed by worry — deeply, unrelentingly worried. she recognised her own vulnerability beneath the veneer of district one's glitz and glamour, beneath the various personas she portrayed for her evening clientele, and beneath the facade of a resilient mother fighting not only for herself and her district but also for her infant daughter. anna was, at her core, a mere human, and fear coursed through her veins. however, she couldn't allow cadence to witness that side of her. she couldn't reveal her vulnerability. so, she held her tongue and offered a falsehood, 〝 i was born ready. 〞
You can see why someone like Madge, who has never been at risk of needing a tessera, can set [Gale] off. The chance of her name being drawn is very slim compared to those of us who live in the Seam. (The Hunger Games p. 13)
THE HUNGER GAMES APPRECIATION WEEK ➤ Day 7: Something you wish had been in the movies ✦ Katniss describing the reaping system & tesserae (+Madge)
the hush that falls over the crowd as the clips begin to ring out is punctuated by awkwardness. only once before has enobaria witnessed a collection of capitolites so visibly perplexed and that was during the conclusion of last year's games. the inane fascination with their district's fallen tributes vexing her even now as holograms force violent recollections. she's included... of course. teeth bared for the very first time, boy's blood dripping from them. enobaria's seen this more times than she'll ever care to count. a well established favourite amongst capitol broadcasters when it came time for pastel presenters with shrill voices to rank their "top ten kills" or count down the viewers' "favourite final days". face a screen and it became an inescapable image. hell, even without one, the feeling is always visceral. still, enobaria can't help but think it's a cliché choice. hardly the shocking visual to drive a message home. such bemusement is knit between her dark brows. a sentiment evidently shared by brutus, who is stood just a few paces away from her, spotting the district one tribute and signalling her arrival with a dip of his jaw before enobaria has even noticed she's there.
❛ oh, is that what my face is saying? ❜ teasing words are thick with playful incredulity. unable to resist toying with those who sought to make a good impression. ❛ why, did you enjoy that little show, anna? just think... in a few weeks time, you could well be part of the lineup too. ❜ then again, enobaria is rooting for the complete opposite to occur. anna's not dissimilar to her predecessors. pretty, tactical and on a glaringly obvious charm offensive. likely talented in one way or another too, given her score from the gamemakers. ❛ congratulations on your nine, by the way. ❜ a taunting pity it wasn't a ten is left unsaid. the imagined tantrum cashmere must have thrown at the result bringing a faint smile to the victor's lips. toothless as ever when the emotion behind it isn't being forced. truthfully, there's an eagerness to see whether the career pack will make a return come noon tomorrow. not that they ever spell everlasting friendship. enobaria had personally taken a sword to her district one ally. but she's convincing when it comes to playing at getting along. especially if it's for ambrosia's benefit.
anna tightly clenched her tongue to suppress the urge for confrontation. engaging in a public altercation with a victor would be unbecoming of her status as a mere tribute. this was the second veiled insult she had received from the district two contingent regarding her evaluation score – first ezra & now her ?! recalling cashmere's encouragements, which were more like strategic instructions, anna pondered the notion of playing the underdog card to her advantage. if she executed it skilfully, she could deliver a captivating performance that would surpass even the previous year's victors. the satisfaction derived from this thought permeated her being. however, she needed to maintain her composure and think strategically. every moment she remained unresponsive, letting the congratulations hang in the air, was a missed opportunity to leave a lasting impression—to make her mark. anna was, and always had been, a performer, and the hunger games were simply another stage for her to captivate an audience. ❛ what can i say ? i'm a great performer. the game makers must have impeccable taste, ❜ she retorted, emptying the contents of her flute before swiftly procuring another drink from one of the bustling avoxes surrounding them. reflecting on the perplexing clip she had just witnessed, anna's primary concern cantered around the purpose of its display. was it meant to rouse fervour among the capitol citizens ? instill fear in the tributes ? or was it purely for the sake of entertainment ? though she found no enjoyment in such gruesome scenes, she surmised that individuals like enobaria might revel in the spectacle. recalling the chilling sequence that showcased enobaria's merciless final kill, anna couldn't help but shudder involuntarily. perhaps the choice of a backless dress had not been the wisest decision after all. suppressing her unease, she tentatively inquired, ❛ how did it feel, enobaria ? the killing ❜ carefully controlling her voice, she hoped to conceal any trace of fear that lurked beneath the surface.
ELODIE YUNG as ELEKTRA NATCHIOS MARVEL’S DAREDEVIL | S02E08, Guilty as Sin
滿山的綠 漫天的霧
kogumaitan