trainingwings | ⇸ voice

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⇸ voice

[ There is video for only a moment: a glimpse of trees and a forehead before the mode is quickly switched over to an audio setting. Aside from some minor shuffling noises and pages turning, it's quiet.

Then comes the emphasized groan. ]

Guess I'm overdue for a new pain in the ass.

[ It's a voice that can best be described as a derisive growl. Dry. Sobriety will do that to a man. Though he is speaking to himself, his words are clear enough to suggest to any that have half a brain about them that he is very aware that he can be heard by others. How many, where they are and, of course, their intentions...well, that's all something he's going to have to fish for.

He knows all too well that this is how these games work, after all. ]

Player Name: Rae
Are you new?: Y
Character Name: Haymitch Abernathy
Character Fandom: The Hunger Games

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Well, this place is that much, at least.

[She's pretty sure she knows that voice. After all, a Career is taught to be familiar with Victors.]

[ The voice doesn't register to anyone in particular. Even if it did, well, a Career is more of a brute force to be reckoned with rather than a voice. ]

And what exactly is that place?

[One dead tribute-- even a Career-- is the same as any other dead tribute. She didn't expect to be known. She knows, though, that she's outing herself as being from the same world.]

A giant arena where the Gamemakers have etched numbers into the back of our necks instead of trackers in our arms, given us wings, like to change our memories and personalities on a whim, and occasionally throw us en masse to fight their war.

The people here call it Luceti.

[ Somewhere in her explanation, it's evident that he's lost his temper. A game is practically the last thing he wants to hear of, let alone take place in. Not after everything that has been set into place...

Pages flutter and crumple as he hurls the book away from him. ]

Sounds like a real treat.

[ He gives the book another kick for good measure. ]

[Not a bad reaction, from the sounds of it.]

Loads of fun. [Except, you know, not.]

[ His voice is distant, as if he has made no effort to pick the thing back up. ]

And you are?

My name is Clove. I was the female tribute from District Two in the 74th Hunger Games.

[It's very rote. She's reciting, doing what she can to separate herself from the Games. Those Games. That death. It's fact. Nothing to haunt her, nothing to dream about while she is still awake.]

[ Against his two, then. Interesting. ]

Bad luck.

This place isn't all bad.

Like the Capitol while the Tributes prepare for the Games. Free food, nice accommodations... while the people in charge just wait to see blood.

[ Right. If there's one thing he hates more than generosity, it's the kind that comes with a price. ]

And if you disappoint?

[ He's curious, for the sake of consequences and to see if this girl really does have any bite to her. ]

You die.

Only to come back a week later with a limb or sense or memory missing or something else that doesn't work right.

Don't even get to escape in death.

[ Consequences, at least, that reflect only on one person. That makes all the difference. ]

Still handy with those knives, I bet.

They've kept me in practice. They have a lot of "missions" they ask for volunteers for.

[It probably shouldn't be too surprising. Rue's been here longer than any of them. Peeta and Clove both showed among the last group of arrivals. These Gamemakers seem to have a liking towards them, don't they? The Victors and tributes of Panem.

Maybe it's nothing more than she deserves. To be haunted like this. Burdened. Another ally, yes. But another life to protect. Another person she can't just dismiss. Even if he lied to her in the past. Even if he failed to protect Peeta like he had promised. It's still Haymitch. She'd never be able to just ignore him no matter how much she she might want to.

But that doesn't mean she has to sound happy.] Where are you?

[ And there she is. What he finds funny is that he can expect her, even here where...well, that's not entirely clear to him yet. That tidbit doesn't need to be elaborated on just yet.

He assumes that it can only be attributed to one simple principle: misery loves company. ]

So, I don't have to rely on an earpiece to get your attention anymore.

[Does that mean Peeta's the one furthest form the past? Clove and Rue don't count. They can't, being dead. What choice do they even have?

If he's mentioning earpieces, that means that he's seen the rebellion. She's at least gone to District Eight. Ignored Haymitch's orders to assist in bringing down Capitol bombers. It's almost a relief. To know that there's someone else here that's seen some of the things she has. Lived through it.

But it's not an answer to her question.] Where are you?

[ Demanding already-- that's her. No one even needs to give her an inch before she helps herself to a whole series of miles. ]

I don't know, [ he replies flatly, annoyed, as if she has some kind of edge on him. ]

Woods. Lake. Looks like mountains to the north and some buildings to the west. Maybe a village.

[Mountains to the north. Buildings to the west. Not her part of the woods. The village would be to his east then, the mountains so much further away. And there would be the sound of water. Her lake, her river.

He's on the other side then. An area she hasn't explored. But he can see the village. Not that far away then.]

Go there. [It's strange, giving Haymitch the commands. But aside from Rue, she's been here the longest. She knows this place the best.] It's the only village you'll find here.

That makes us nice and cozy, then, [ he mutters, mostly to himself, as he starts to walk in the general direction of the village. He's in no particular hurry to get to an enclosure of new people, nor overlook any possibility of any hidden agendas. What he wouldn't give for a knife.

The closest thing to comfort he can muster is the personal satisfaction of making her wait. ]

Hate to take time out of your busy schedule.

[Maybe she should've just left Peeta to deal with this. She's seen his comment below, as well as Clove's above. It'd be easier, anyway. He's always gotten on better with Haymitch than herself.

But she's already started walking towards the western boundary of the village. She'll be there to meet him. To find out what he knows.]

No, you don't. [Muttered as she walks.] You've never minded before.

Careful, sweetheart. I might take offense to you calling me a liar.

[ He treks on, focus locked on the horizon. Here and there he makes a mental note of any landmarks he deems significant, but considering the whole inconvenience, he decides it's much too soon for any mishaps. If there is an audience in this game, they need time to take it all in.

Once he spots her, a deep breath escapes him. The redness of his face implies that he's winded: still strong, yes, but drink and time have inevitably taken their toll. The wings that the boy mentioned aren't much of a treat for balance either. ]

Could've met me halfway.

[She's at the western border of the village, somewhere between the school and grocery shop. Her wings are covered by her hunting jacket, but the slightly awkward angle in which her bow and quill rest against her back betray their presence. The scowl on her face is to be expected. No sympathy, not really. Didn't she have to do much the same hike four months prior?

At his words, she rolls her eyes. Maybe she should've. She's in better shape now than she's been for months. Weight has slowly come back. Stamina. But the eastern woods are expansive. It wouldn't do for them to miss each other completely.

But she does hold out the flask she had been carrying. It's water, not alcohol. Maybe not as appreciated but certainly more necessary.]

[ It isn't hard to notice that she looks different. Healthy isn't quite the word, nor hardened, but she isn't the same girl he saw only a few days ago. There is a whole other chip on her shoulders now, he assumes.

Unlike his old habit of throwing back liquor, the water is taken in tentative sips as if savoring the taste. After a few mouthfuls, he catches his breath, wipes his mouth off on his arm and hands the flask back to her. ]

Nice to see you too.

[ His glance goes straight past her, on towards the village: the playground, the fountain, the unnamed buildings and anyone that happens to be milling around...untrusting. ]

[The tentative sips are a reminder. A reminder that Haymitch, too, had been in the Games. Had known the necessity of water, the scarcity. The value of fresh, sustaining liquid. Not something to be guzzled down like his white liquid.

She takes the flask back and slips it into her bag. There's a little bit of a shrug on her end before she turns her head to follow Haymitch's gaze.

She can't say the same. It's not like with Rue, who has no life back in Panem. Haymitch does. He shouldn't be here.]

It's called Luceti.

I heard.

[ Thanks to the slightly dented book tucked under his arm. Tribute after tribute, even the deceased. It's not right-- a violation of something. Dignity? There's a laugh. ]

You've got one hell of a collection of friends going here.

[ His tone is accusing for sheer lack of a certain feeling or footing just yet. Being uprooted and stuck with glorified chicken wings, well, it's a shame to leave behind a world on fire for something as trivial as this. ]

[She wouldn't exactly call them all friends. Or allies, for that matter. But he's right. She does have one hell of a collection. People here know her. Want to spend time with her. She doesn't understand it, doesn't get why they're so nice to her.

But she's selfish. And she's not sure she wants to give it up all that easily. Even in his own way, Haymitch's presence here is reassuring. Not that she'd ever tell him that.

No. Instead it's another eyeroll and a similarly accusatory tone in return.] And now I have you.

[Is that Haymitch? Well, he ought to like this place. Free booze and everything, and it doesn't even make you go blind.

Maybe he'll avoid mentioning that part, actually.]

Notice the wings yet?

[There's little love lost between Haymitch and Peeta, so a little innocent, friendly trolling is in order. Like pointing out one of the freakiest parts of this experience to someone brand new. When Peeta first arrived, he'd been so pumped full of adrenaline he'd taken an hour to even notice his.]

[ Peeta.

He's silent for the moment, digesting the tone of the other. Although pleased, he isn't any less cautious about showcasing his enthusiasm just yet. The hows and whys become a secondary note to the strange question.

There's more shifting, then what sounds like patting, and finally a ripe slew of curses. ]

Is that what I landed on?

[A hissed intake of breath as Peeta winces in sympathy.]

Ouch.

[...Yeah. It's still funny.]

[ There's a certain patience he has with the boy that somehow spares him of any yelling or other such episodes. Instead he just grunts, unamused. ]

Tell me you have 'em too and I might feel a little better.

Everyone does. It helps not to pull at them. Where are you?

Woods. Looks like a village isn't too far West. Anything I should expect?

It's not so bad.

[Her voice is quiet and a little shy. Even if he doesn't recognize her voice, she knows who he is. You begin to recognize victors and mentors after a few games.]

[ He doesn't match her tone, brusque as ever, but more towards the situation rather than at her reassurance. ]

I have a feeling your generosity about that is easily overlooked.

[ Sad truth. ]

It's not perfect, but it's not bad either. There are people just like the Malnosso and they have all these experiments you can't avoid, but people are nice and help each other out. And there's food! Lots of food. No one ever goes hungry.

[ Then the inevitable question. ]

Anything to drink?

[ It has been an adaption for 13, but circumstances like these-- he should at least be aware. ]

There's a bar. And a nightclub! They have music at the nightclub! [Because what is drinking to a twelve-year-old?]

[ Hopefully you'll never find out, kid. ]

Don't care so much for the company.

I think you'll always find people around no matter where you go. Even if there aren't other people at the bar or nightclub, the staff is still there too.

We'll see about that.

[ Seriously. He knows how to clear a room. ]

If you're going to the bar, can I go too? They have milkshakes.

I don't intend to keep anyone out of the place, if that's what you're asking.

[ He'll be the one seated alone, catching up on all the drinking he has been missing out on. ]

Do you want a milkshake?

Not a fan.

Maybe if it had a little kick.

I bet they could add something if you asked. [Like a pepper. That has kick, right?]

[that anouncement gets a bit of a snort. Have an unfamiliar voice coming over the pages, Haymitch]

...You and everyone else around here.

Are you making a request or speaking from experience?

[she smirks down at the page at that] Hey, I like my kinks as much as the next girl...but you're gonna be smarting whether you ask for it or not.

Interesting way of putting it.

[ Yes, even past that lackluster tone he has put on. ]

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⇸ voice

voice:

Ah, Clove. ❤

Just what Haymitch needs, no?

Practically a prescription!

I bet he feels just great already!

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voice ⇸ action time-jumping joy

[action] woo, time jumping!

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thank you for the heads up! :)

anytime!

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;; bb~

Haymitch! ;; /makes grabby hands

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Just A+ mentorship right here.

These two should be drinking BFFs.

Yes. Yes they should!

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