randomshit | moving on is impossible when i still see it all in my head (closed;)

moving on is impossible when i still see it all in my head (closed;)

["And that, my friends, is how a revolution dies."

It's that, that and a laugh, the cruelest and most grating imaginable, that have spent an entire night in her thoughts. For once, instead of nightmares, she saw images of a sneer and a pair of judgmental eyes that only made her blood boil under her skin.

Haymitch, who betrayed her. Haymitch, who betrayed them both. Haymitch, who lost any right to an opinion, any right to call himself a mentor (not that he was ever much of one in the first place), the moment he decided to double-cross her and lie to her.

But he's right. He's always right.

And that's the worst part.

By the time she trudges toward Command the following afternoon, her anger hasn't abated. Far from it. It's set in every line of her face, apparent in a hard glint in her eyes and in the way her breaths continue to come shorter than they should. When a stray glance alerts her to his imminent presence, for the first time since she clawed his face on the hovercraft, there's no incentive to stop or change her course.

She's prepared to keep right on walking.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Katniss.

[It's said tiredly. Haymitch is tired. He hates this place. His skin is yellowed and he's lost a great deal of weight. And no matter what he says, he and Katniss need to be a team. Because he failed him.]

Will you stop for one second? And keep the claws in this time?

[Katniss knows she works better as part of a team. Without Prim, she'd never have a reason. Without Gale, she'd have never become the skilled hunter that she is now. Without Cinna, she would've never been made unforgettable. Without Peeta, she would've never made it out of the arena, or through those nights on the train and before the Quell with her sanity intact.

But the teammate she needs now, the one she needs to help her through this, to help her convincingly pull off her necessary role as the Mockingjay, isn't the one who's standing nearby.

For her part, though, she stops when she hears that voice. It sounds so worn, weary. Pathetic. Almost as pathetic as the appearance her sidelong glance begins to take in full. A pang of something like... concern shoots through her, and it's almost an entire minute before she remembers that she's not supposed to care about how he sounds or how much weight he's lost. That she's supposed to hate him for every unforgivable thing he's done.

She doesn't have a response. Not right now, anyway. Just an internal struggle that keeps her feet rooted.]

[That's a start at least. He didn't think he'd have a chance to talk to her, but now he had that chance.]

Listen, you and I both know how pathetic you are at acting.

[Haymitch was never one for starting out nice.]

So don't act.

[Maybe that will get her interested in the conversation.]

[No, Haymitch never was one for starting out nice. That's not something she would've expected for a second.

The script unfolds just as it always does. He dives straight in by pointing out her flaws in that condescending, infuriating way of his. The way that makes her fingers twitch and her teeth start to grind into one another. The way that shoots impulses through her nerves to repeat history. She could do it. With how weak and wane he looks, she could cause lasting damage.

But it's the way, of course, that conveys truth. This man who can lie so easily, who has no problem pulling strings without her knowledge or consent, never fails to make her face what's unavoidable. She knows her performance yesterday was pathetic. That, really, the notion she could ever possibly carry the cameras without Peeta, Peeta and his effortless charm and natural gift with words, is laughable. They're expecting the impossible from her, but it's the impossible she has no choice but to deliver.

So it's something she hardly needs to hear from an outside source. Especially this one.

It's a long moment, a very extraordinarily long moment, before she finally makes her first offering toward the conversation.]

What else am I supposed to do? [There's a cold harshness to her tone.]

[He studies her for a moment. So much riding on this one little girl, this annoying, flawed little girl.

He wonders just how heated her anger is under that coldness, how much of it is directed at him- rightfully so.

It didn't matter much to him. Nothing really mattered much to him. But he did need her to see his logic and not let the anger blind her.]

You need to react. You don't need a script, you need to be out there.

[He knows it's dangerous, of course it is, but Coin will probably send her to the safest zone possible once he convinces all of them, leads them sniffing to the idea.]

[In that instant, though, that one instant, there is no anger. Another force swoops in, one that's temporarily strong enough to replace the very thing that's been keeping her going. Confusion. Absolute dumbfounded confusion.

Had she even heard him correctly? Was he actually suggesting that she go...?--]

What?

[Because the idea is completely ludicrous. It's not that she wants to spend the rest of her foreseeable life confined here in 13. Who would? Every turn, every corner is nothing but suffocating, only reminding her of the mines and every other horrible way anyone could ever be trapped. She'd rather be out there, doing something that actually matters, rather than in here, reading off a bunch of lines and looking nothing like herself.

But they'd never allow it. Not after they'd spent so much time and so many resources rescuing and caring for (drugging) and remaking their precious little Mockingjay. Sending that straight into danger? It wouldn't be worth the risk.]

[Haymitch rolls his eyes, annoyed.]

Come on, wipe the earwax out of your ears, sweetheart. Combat. I want you out there. That's what's going to make you grow those wings. Not some stupid smoke and makeup.

['Sweetheart'. That's what forces her back into reality. That little term of so-called endearment she hates more than anything in the world. Right on cue, her blood starts to boil again. She hates Haymitch. She hates being within a hundred feet of him. She hates being talked down to and treated like a child.

And maybe beyond anything else, she hates the promise that there's a way out of her impossibility. An ultimately futile promise that'd be stupid to believe in.

After all, she has no reason to trust him. Never again. Not after one lie too many.

Her eyes narrow.]

It'll never happen.

[ 'Have a little faith' is on the tip of his tongue, but he immediately bites it back. She trusted him with one of her most important people and he failed.

He runs a hand across his face, his voice reflecting his irritation and impatience.]

They're going to agree with it, because I'm going to make them come up with the idea on their own. Whether you like it or not, I'm still your mentor.

[Here's what a mentor would have done.

A mentor would've kept his word. Because he knew full well who should've made it out of that arena safely and unharmed. A mentor would've been honest. Spinning lies and orchestrating plots behind the scenes benefits no one. A mentor would've only acted in their best interests. Both of their best interests.

Mentor is hardly the word that describes this sad, pathetic sack of bones.

There's what can only be described as death in those narrowed eyes now. She makes direct, defiant, deliberate eye contact. Makes sure that he sees it. Makes sure that he hears every last syllable of what she's about to say with piercing precision.

Makes sure that he feels the blow.]

Not anymore.

[It's the same deep hurt he felt while flying away in that hovercraft. A pang that no alcohol, no sarcastic words can soften.

His lips twitch into a frown, staring back at her with hardened eyes, ready for the next blow.]

Go ahead. Keep going.

[At that, she has half a mind to abandon her plans, to turn and walk away, right here, right now, and never again give so much as a backward glance. He'd never get what he wanted, would he? He's challenging her, baiting her, and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of rising to it.

But maybe it isn't just about that. Maybe it's also about her own satisfaction. About finishing what she started. One more arrow for a clean kill. It'd be for the best.

When she speaks again, the careful control of her cold fury starts to unravel. There's something else in there, betrayed by a voice that's much shakier than she'd like for it to be.]

I hate you. [And because that doesn't seem like enough...] I hate you for what you did to him.

[They're so much alike. She knows how to hurt him and he knows how to hurt her. He practically spits out his next sentence.]

I wasn't the only one who left him.

[It hurts. No, it stings, in the way that being stabbed with a knife that had a tip coated in poison might. In the way that nothing else could.

She's been forced to go on the defensive. The volume and desperation in her voice rise as a result.]

If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have had to!

[Even as the words leave her mouth, though, she knows the ground is shrinking beneath her feet. There's no counterargument against what Haymitch has, again, so effectively brought to the surface and made unavoidable. She can try to extend the blame all she wants, but it doesn't change the horrible truth.

Peeta is being held in the Capitol. And it's because of her.]

[Haymitch deflates a little at that, his face and voice softening.]

...Okay. We got that out of the way. Now let's do what we have to get him back.

[Because they could do this. They could yell back and forth for hours. But at the end of the day, they both wanted the same thing: Peeta. He was less of a fighter than Katniss, but there was something good about the kid. And Haymitch owed him that much at least. After all he'd let happen to him, he owed him that much.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

moving on is impossible when i still see it all in my head (closed;)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

LMAO those keywords... they have never been more appropriate

>:)

i love you

i love you mooore

nuh uuuuhhhh i love you the mostest

no way B( I love you times infinity!! and ow that icon hurts