thevultur‌:

Lysander shook his head as she started speaking, not needing her admiration, especially when it came with such a context. He didn’t aim to be sweet and he took his pride very seriously, so the compliment felt as anything but. ‘’Are you done?’’ he checked, not meaning to be rude, but needing the girl to stop talking about it. ‘’Better yet, tell me if we’ve run an analyze on the tributes.’’

“Yes, sorry sir.” She apologised, before nodding her head vehemently, “The program was just finishing up before I came up here, it should be done now, sir.”

olive--blackwell‌:

“Olive. Just Olive.” She placed a wet paper towel over the cut. “Take your concern elsewhere. I’m not dropping dead anytime soon.”

“Right. Olive.” Zephonia nodded fiercely. “I- I’m sure you’re not, Mi- Olive. Sorry, I just wanted to make sure.” She managed awkwardly, before deciding she should probably introduce herself. “I’m Zephonia Prior, by the way.”

olive--blackwell:

“It’s Olive, not ma’am.” She didn’t like the sound of that from the girl’s voice. It made her feel much older than twenty-three. “And I’ve survived a lot worse.”

“Sorry, Miss Olive.” She corrected herself. It was important to address everyone with utmost respect, that’s what her parents had taught her. If this was to keep Zephonia docile and obedient, she didn’t need to know. “I’m sure of that, Miss Olive, but it’s still a head wound. Could be a lot worse than it seems.”

thevultur:

Lysander looked at the ground to gather his own thoughts and recollect himself for the interaction with a fellow Gamemaker, lower in rank. It was, without any doubt, a displeasing situation he was finding himself in, but things were done now and he had to reach out to Clover somehow, even if it meant making a fool out of himself in front of everybody below him. He looked at the flowers and then at her. ‘’Gamemaking doesn’t pay enough. I deliver flowers in my spare time. Or, perhaps, I’m bringing my girlfriend flowers.’’

“That’s sweet.” Zephonia smiled, speaking with total sincerity for a change. She winced when she realised her words may have come across condescending, and quickly started talking to clarify her sincerity. “I really mean it. A lot of people have too much pride to do things like that.” Especially a lot of people Zephonia worked with, arguably herself included.

thevultur:

‘‘Clover, can we talk?’‘ Lysander inquired, knocking on the door on the third floor, knowing too well that it was unlike them to text or speak on the phone. This was important enough to require a face to face encounter, always. Just then, somebody else passed by the door or opened it. Embarrassment, to put it lightly, covered the Head Gamemaker’s face, since he always tried to appear made of stone. ‘’Nope. Wrong person.’’

“Head Gamemaker Vultur?” Zephonia asked as she stepped out of the elevator. She was doing a coffee run for some of the other Gamemakers, and had come up to the third floor to see if any of her friends from the Districts wanted anything. She hadn’t expected to see her boss on the third floor with a bunch of flowers, “What are you doing up here, sir?”

olive--blackwell:

“I’m fine!” She threw up her hands, signaling to the person in front of her not to come closer or touch. On her ride from her apartment to the tribute tower she’d taken one turn to sharp on her motorcycle and the wheels had gone out from under her. The cut along her forehead was still bleeding (if only slightly) and it throbbed in tune with her heartbeat, but she didn’t feel faint or dizzy. “I just took a little tumble off the Pig is all.”

“Are you sure about that, ma’am?” Zephonia asked, furrowing her brows. The cut on the woman’s head looked nasty, and she knew that head wounds could cause a lot of damage when left untreated. “It looks pretty bad, is all.”

lysettaprior:

“Who is they?” Lysetta rebutted, the tears running dry. She was on an emotional rollercoaster, her sadness at her sister’s questions, turning to anger. She wanted to be calm, to fight her sister’s words with kindness and love, but she did not come all of this way to be sent packing by lies. By lies, by the Capitol who took her sister in the first place. Who caused this in the first place. 

“They,” Lysetta said, pointing in general to the sky and then to the ballroom, “are lying to you. We didn’t receive anything. We didn’t know what had happened to you. I spent my entire life getting here. And you think that I would lie to you? You think I am here for something? I don’t know what you do here, why you’re here at the party. For all I knew, you would be someone’s butler or locked away. I thought I would have to turn this entire city upside down to find you.” The tears were back, but this time out of anger and frustration. She thought that this would be a joyous reunion, that they would go back to being sisters. That was naive of her to think. 

“They-” She spat back, “Are my family. The ones who raised me after mom and dad sent me away for no reason. Gave me a home, food, clothes. More than I ever got in District Five.” She explained angrily. If Lysetta though she could just show up and receive Zephonia’s undying love and affection, she had another thing coming. Her family in District Five had forgotten about her the moment she’d set foot on the train to the Capitol. She was sure of it.

“Why would they lie? They have no reason to lie, nothing to gain. Don’t try and tell me you don’t know what I do here, it’s not that hard to figure it out. I’m getting recognition now. You’re here because mom and dad regret getting rid of me now that I’ve found some success.” To Zephonia, her argument made perfect sense, and she didn’t want to hear anything Lysetta had to say to the contrary.

lysettaprior:

Her neutral expression was crumbling. Her lip trembled and her eyes grew wide as her little sister accused her of lying. What could she have possibly done but tell the truth? She had worked hard for the past eight years to make it to the top. She had worked long shifts, took care of her family, prepared them for life on their own so she could come here for her. Lysetta felt empty, down trodden. 

“Why would I be here for anything else?” Lysetta replied, trying to meet her sister’s eyes. “I don’t know anything about what happened to you for the past eight years. You had all but disappeared. How could I not look for you?” She paused, steadying her voice. Lysetta did not want to seem weak at this moment. All I had to go on was that the Capitol took you, so I had to get here to at least look.” Her eyes were pleading, asking her sister to believe her or at least entertain the idea that Lysetta was being genuine. “And I found you,” Lysetta finished, her voice finally breaking and a sob escaping her lips. 

Zephonia felt the anger boiling inside of her. All these years she’d waited to see her family again, she’d wanted, desperately, for them to find her, to want to see her, and now her older sister was here, in front of her, and all she could feel was anger. They hadn’t looked, she knew they hadn’t. She’d written, she’d tried to keep in contact, and they’d rebuffed all of her attempts.

“I wrote.” She said in a whisper. “Every week, for three years. You never responded. Nobody responded.” Nia continued, voice gradually rising. “I wanted to visit, to come back to Five. They told me you didn’t want to see me. I know you weren’t looking. I know you’re lying.” She was biting back tears, refusing to feel anything but betrayal at her sister’s return.

lysettaprior:

Lysetta’s brows furrowed as Nia pulled away from her. Her life had led up to this moment. She had been preparing for this since the Capitol had swooped into the Prior household and had left with her best friend. She had thought her sister had been doing the same thing. She was sure that her sister was thinking about her as much as she was thing about Nia. It was good she had prepared for something worse, but it still stung. 

The expression that ran across Nia’s face confused Lysetta even more. She followed her sister through the Ball, heading to one of the many balconies. Lysetta breathed in the air as she crossed the threshold into the night. She leaned on the balcony, composing herself and looking at her younger sister. “What do you mean, you can’t do this? You mean reunite with your sister who has worked her whole life to find you?” Her voice was still a whisper and her face was as neutral an expression as she could get it. 

‘Worked her whole life to find you. Zephonia frowned at that, trying to make sense of her sister’s words. It wasn’t as thought Zephonia had been lost, she had been here, the whole time, perfectly capable of being contacted. Of being found. She’d written letters, countless letters, she’d asked to see them, she’d been told they didn’t respond. They didn’t want to see her. She was better off just forgetting. As soon as she’d managed to gain some success, they’d come crawling back. She wasn’t surprised. 

“Don’t lie to me.” She said softly, willing her voice to be stronger, but all she felt was sorrow. This was all she’d ever wanted, but she knew her sister must have had ulterior motives. “Why are you really here?”

lysettaprior:

Lysetta let out a muffled sob as the recognition dawned on Nia’s face. She remembered. She nodded, her hands itching to wrap her arms around her little sister. The sister that disappeared. The sister that had left a gaping hole in the middle of her life.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Lysetta said, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached out her hand to touch her sister’s cheek, hoping for Nia felt the same happiness that she did. “I’ve waited so long…and you’ve been here this whole time?”

For a moment, Nia didn’t know how to react. For a moment, she wanted to embrace her older sister, to let Lysetta cup her cheek and wipe away phantom tears from the years she’d spent alone. For a moment, she just wanted to be happy, to be content that her family had finally found her, that they were finally trying to reconnect with her. For a moment.

Then, reality snapped back into place. She pulled away from Lysetta’s hand, the expression of bewilderment that was on her face being replaced by something far more accusatory, something angry almost, before she wiped her expression clean. It was important to remain composed in public. “I can’t do this here.” She muttered simply, leaving her drink on the bar as she walked towards one of the more concealed balconies, not looking back to see if Lysetta was following.

lysettaprior:

The girl that Lysetta thought was her sister did not even acknowledge the wave. Lysetta did not know what to do. Was she wrong? Did the whiskeys she had downed that evening dull her senses so much that she didn’t even know what her own sister looked like? Lysetta retreated inwards, thinking of what her sister would look like eight or so years later. Thinking of reasons why she would ignore her or if she had even noticed her. 

That voice. Lysetta looked up and saw Nia standing right in front of her. She looked the same, but so, so different. Seeing her, finally, after all these years froze Lysetta right in her tracks. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. Lys didn’t want to frighten her or anger her. She had so many questions and was frightened herself of what her sister would say to her. 

I have to say something, she thought. Lysetta hoping for the best, but bracing for the worst, reached out and tapped Nia on the shoulder. “Hi, do you remember me?” 

Zephonia turned around slowly when someone tapped her on the shoulder, not having expected the purposeful contact. Figuring it was just one of her workmates attempting to grab her attention, she turned with a smile on her face, faltering when she failed to recognise the woman in front of her. It wasn’t someone she had spoken to recently, not someone who should have any reason to want to grab her attention, and yet the woman looked so... familiar, it was strange.

Hearing the woman speak, Zephonia felt a lump form in her throat. That voice, she knew it. It was deeper than she remembered, more refined, maybe? But there was no doubt in her mind that she knew the person who belonged to that voice. That she grew up with that person for the better part of her childhood. That this person hadn’t contacted her since she’d moved to the Capitol, that she’d been forgotten by her sister, and her entire family.

“Lysetta?” She whispered, barely believing the name she was uttering. Why now? After all these years? As soon as she was starting to gain some recognition and success, her sister decides to show up?

lysettaprior:

The Ball had continued to an apex. The music had created a beat that made the dresses spin and swirl around the suits and costumes that littered the dance floor. Lysetta had been dancing, letting her dress flare out and around the partners she had chosen. The smile that she had worn as her feet and hips moved across the wood was still plastered on her face as she sat at the bar, her feet curled around the metal bar. She leaned across the bar and asked the bartender for another whiskey on the rocks. 

Her eyes wandered as the bartender mixed the drink and she found her eyes settling on a group of people in uproariously laughing together. Lysetta saw a flit of a face in the group, a face that sparked a flood of emotions. She stared at the group, waiting for another glimpse to be sure that it was her sister she saw and not a reflection of the couple of drinks she had had that night.

The bartender broke her trance, tapping her on the shoulder and murmuring “Your drink, miss.” Lysetta bowed her head in thanks and turned back to the group of people she had been eyeing. 

Her drink slowly emptied as she kept her eyes on that group, hoping to see Nia’s face again. The group dispersed as her last drop of whiskey fell down her throat. Lysetta shifted in her seat and waited to see her sister all grown up. Lysetta stared at her and waved hoping that her sister would feel her and look at her. 

// @zephoniaprior

The Capitol balls had never been anything too exciting for Zephonia, merely an unfortunate necessity of her job. She thought the whole thing was rather pointless. The Victor was already being celebrated across the nation, especially being one of only two people to ever win the Games twice. It was quite the feat, and though Nia had been secretly rooting for the girl from District Eight, Kahente? Was that her name? It hardly mattered now.

She made her rounds through the ballroom, talking sporadically to people she recognised, just wishing she was back in her lab working on prototypes for the next Games. The theme had yet to be formally announced, but Nia was already buzzing with excitement. Maybe that and the fizzy drink she’d just consumed. Alcohol numbed the senses and dulled the mind, something she would be happy to never indulge in.

Finding a group of her fellow Gamemakers, Zephonia joined into their conversation keenly. These were people she actually understood. They spoke the same language as her, one of deadlines and code, mutts and mechanics. A joke about a malfunctioning mutt from a couple of Games caused the group to break out into laughter, Zephonia included. Managing to calm herself, Nia excused herself from the group as they dispersed. It was important for the Gamemakers not to appear cliquey, people didn’t react well to that.

Zephonia didn’t notice the woman waving at her, though she did see the movement out of the corner of her eye. She’d already spoken to all of her friends at the event, so she assumed the wave was for someone else, and promptly ignored it. It would be frightfully embarrassing to react to a wave intended for someone else. She made her way over to the bar, ignoring the unease that had suddenly settled in her gut. “Just a soda, please.” She asked the avox behind the bar with a broad smile.

birchpembrooke:

The ground crunched under Sparrow’s shoes as she snuck out of the ballroom for a few moments. The wind caught her hair and she travelled down the steps of the terrace to a fountain that took up a small corner of the garden. She sat on the ground, her head leaning on the stone of the fountain. Her fingers began to comb through the bundle of plants she had picked out of the garden on her way to the fountain. 

She thought as her fingers and eyes took in the plants and tried to figure out what each of them were. Sparrow thought about her mom and how tomorrow morning she would give her a call and tell her about how boring the Ball was and her mom would ask about Drake, Raven and the foods that she had tried. She also thought of way she could rebel in a small way. 

It was then that she was interrupted by footsteps that were coming towards her.

Keeping up appearances was exhausting, despite it being something Zephonia had trained her whole life for. She soon found herself in desperate need of a break, even if only for a few minutes. The fountain at the edge of the garden was something Justice had shown her years ago, and she’d been using it ever since if she needed some reprieve from the masses of adoring fans. She hadn’t been expecting anyone else to be at her spot, and stopped a few feet short of where the second most recent Victor was perched. “Good evening.” She said simply, coming to sit by the edge of the fountain. “Not enjoying the party?”

glittercaulder:

Sapphire looked over at the head gamemaker and shrugged.  “I suppose…though I don’t enjoy these parties.”  Did any of the victors?  It was awful.  She still couldn’t believe that people still celebrated the murder of innocent children.

“I enjoyed them a lot more when I was younger. Now I feel it the next day.” She told the younger woman. Almost twenty-one years of going to these events, they tended to lose their novelty. Now, there were eyes on her at all times, something she didn’t have to deal with quite so much in her youth. 

vegalattimor:

It was always nice to win.  Of course she knew she didn’t do anything compared to the mentors for two, but still Vega liked to think she played a role in getting Lycra out alive.  Since she lost the decision to leave the children with a sitter, Vega had her infant daughter on her hip when she approached Zephonia.  Smiling, she touched her arm.

“You look absolutely lovely tonight, Zephonia.”

Recognising the woman who had approached her immediately, Zephonia broke into what was probably her first genuine smile for the evening. “Thank you, Vega.” She replied, smoothing out some of the creases that had formed in the green material. “So do you, and who's this?” She asked, turning her attention towards the baby.

surya-mirga:

Saiyyad had spent hours laboring over the menu for the ball. He wanted it to be something different, and he also wanted to send a message. But he’d been warned - no big displays, or it could ruin everything. The people who needed messages to be relayed to them could wait until the following week when he was catering a small dinner party. That didn’t mean he couldn’t try to spice things up this time around - quite literally. So much Capitol food he’d found over the years was pretty but bland, and he wanted everything to have a little kick. Even his desserts, like his cayenne chocolate crackle cookies he was now serving himself. Everyone wanted to compliment the chef, he found, but it was mostly because a fair amount were already drunk and wanted to compliment anyone at the moment. Once the tray was empty, he brushed off the few crumbs that had gotten on his chef’s jacket and gently tapped someone’s arm to try to get around them so he could head back to the kitchen.

Zephonia looked the man up and down, taking a few seconds to deduce that he must be one of the chefs, based on his current attire and the trays he carried. It took her a moment longer to realise that he hadn’t been attempting to make conversation with her at all, and that he was merely trying to navigate around her to reach the kitchen. “You’re the chef?” She asked, lifting one eyebrow, and looking him up and down once more. “You’ve done well.”

joy-trovato:

Haydn had been stumbling around the room for a while now occassionally taking photos of guests and sipping on drinks. The bright lights were blinding his eyes, the victory balls having lost the appeal to him a long time ago and yet, this ear was even worse. He still expected to find Perl hopping around the guests trying to get him to dance with her even though he had two left feet when it came to moving around. Now he wished he had let himself be persuaded more often.

As he found himself face to face with the new head gamemaker though it wasn’t because he had any desire to speak to her, although he would have to get a photo of her eventually. He had barely slipped a little on a wet spot where  apparently a glass he fallen to the ground: “My apologies.” he spoke up straightening his back: “It appears I have slipped.”

“Ah.” Zephonia responded simply. So he hadn’t been vying for her attention. She wouldn’t let herself be disheartened by that. Some people simply preferred to admire her work quietly, from a distance. Through hushed whispers across the room, causing the hairs on her neck to stand on end as she strained her ears to make out a word or two, maybe even a sentence. “People should really be more careful with their drinks. This sort of thing wouldn’t happen.” She offered, glancing down at the ground which was rapidly becoming drenched by guests’ beverages.