THG: Aftermath: Parts...18 & 19
Feb. 20th, 2015 02:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amichan[I think this follows on pretty well after the part after the Caesar interview, really]
I was born in District 12.
I worked in a baker's shop.
I survived two Hunger Games.
My name is Peeta Mellark.
I was born in District 12.
-+-+-+-
Two guards have come in and are unhooking me. I'm so done with this.
"No, let me go! I said-I said I'd be here!"
"Feisty today." They sound surprised.
I can't last long with it. I'm winded quickly and pissed with myself especially because they find it amusing as I try to push off he hits me across the face and I feel that frequent, familiar taste of blood in my mouth.
"Shit," one says.
"No, there's no broadcast. It's just medical."
There's palpable relief on the other's part as he hefts me over his shoulder the way I used to haul bags of flour and we go down the corridor, the swaying motion lulls me out and I'm not aware of much until I'm dropped roughly onto a cot. A bar goes across my middle and there are clamps around my upper thighs and around my right leg, and then my arms are once more chained above me. The cot is rotated so that I'm elevated, almost vertical. If I wasn't strapped every which way, and still without my replacement leg I could step off and walk.
Mr. Purple and Blue is there in the back of the room I can make him out despite the shadows because of the sharp contrast with the clothes of President Snow. This can only mean wonderful things for me, I swallow out of nerves, but it sparks a coughing fit. Snow looks over, and then points at me. A medical technician comes over and checks me over, can't have me choking to death before they're done with me, I suppose.
Snow takes a few steps closer to me, "You've given such passionate speeches for us," he says, "It's a shame they don't seem to be helping. Is it possible you're not truly giving it your all?"
If you can't say anything nice. Therefore I feel it's best to remain silent.
"Hm," Snow says, "You're normally such a wordsmith." He puts a hand on my chin and carefully pries my mouth open, "No. The tongue is still there. Good. I would hate to have to order someone else's execution today. I fear running out of useful people." He tuts.
"Things are ready," Mr. Purple and Blue says. Though today he's wearing mostly green--that's going to be confusing.
"Very well, Mr. Lethate," Snow says, "I'll leave you too it. I expect a full report."
"Of course." He nods to one of the technicians, who approaches with a syringe. They hook one of my arms up to a bag of fluids, which makes my hand cold and that spreads up my arm. The other arm is jabbed roughly by Purple and Blue--wearing green--Lethate, and there's that horrific burning again. I want to scrape and pull but the other arm is just as badly positioned.
"Let's see what you see this time," the light around his head spreds out as he speaks.
"How long do the raise duels last?" Snow's voice melts out of the door frame, "Eye prom ice dome point am door their four din hard you thin canape pan?"
I'm falling backwards.
Black smoke chokes me.
[edit: Lethate from (Lethe, the river of forgetfulness)+(Atë, goddess of ruin)]
-+-+-+-
"What was the plan for District 7?" the shining lamp stand asks. It bends and curves and I have a hard time following it's movement. I want to point at it but my hand doesn't move at first, and then it does like dough mid prep when you're making snakes to braid together.
Braids are pretty.
Katniss braids her hair.
"District 7?" there's a face in my noodle arm. That's not right.
Johanna is from District 7. Unzipping. There was unzipping. Haymitch laughing. Katniss upset in the elevator. We were high up. Too high.
I'm falling forward, stumbling. The riverbank coming up towards me, or am I coming down to it? Either way it's a jumbling mess, tearing at the already open wound on my leg. I stop for a moment taking that in. My leg. My leg is there. My real leg. Flesh. Blood. Blood everywhere. I'm probably leaving a...no, I fell down leaves and mud, that's probably way more of a trail. If he was going to follow and finish me off he would have already, but no...this has already...hasn't it?
"Let's get you cleaned off," Katniss is in the river, washing the blood from Wiress' body.
Johanna is cursing up a storm behind me on the bank, "I found her for you!"
I need to clean my wound too. It'll get infected. I'll lose the leg. I'll lose it.
"Then you fix her!" Katniss shoves Wiress towards Johanna, "I need to tend to Peeta," she waves to me from the water as Wiress spins in circles, "Tick tock, tick tock!"
"Screw you and your tick tock," Johanna mutters, "Drown for all I care. I got her here, whatever."
Other people should be here. Shouldn't there be...sand??
"What...happened...with...District...7...?" Wiress asks, with Beetee's voice as Katniss wades to the edge of the river, complaining that I've not come far enough towards her, "Why...would...they...burn...everything?" the sun on the river is far too bright.
"What are you talking about?" I ask Wiress, "Nothing's on fire here any more. Just the tidal--" No, this is the forest. There was fire in the forest, Katniss told me. The Girl on Fire caught fire.
Sharp pain in my leg, makes me turn, complaining loudly, "What are you?"
Katniss has jabbed her fingers into the wound, "It's deep."
"Of course it's deep. It was a sword. Cato...but Brutus was in the arena with Wiress and Johanna."
"What do you mean?" she asks, "You're not making any sense."
"Did you give rites to Seeder or Rue?"
Katniss shakes her head, "Give rites? Don't be ridiculous. Why would I give rites? Who has time for that? People are killing each other in here. Now come on. We need to get a move on before monkeys or dogs or something come for us."
"Or blood rain?"
"Blood rain? What blood rain?"
"The blood rain that Wiress and Johanna just came through..." I turn. There's no one else with us. We're in a cave. It's just the two of us.
She crawls towards me, "Peeta, you're not making sense. You've lost too much blood. You need to rest...and I can go to the Cornucopia."
"Please don't go to the Cornucopia." I pause, "but you're going to. You're going to drug me and go anyway."
"I don't..." she sits back on her legs, "We can both win, do you really want to die from blood poisoning?"
She's right. That doesn't make sense.
"Everyone else is going to the Cornucopia though. Clove. Cato. Thresh...they're the only ones alive at this point...no Foxface hasn't eaten nightlock yet. She's still here."
"What are you?" she puts her hand to my face, "You're burning up, but if you're burning up and turning psychic who am I to argue. I'm glad you know about nightlock though. That stuff is very, very dangerous. You don't need to eat that and die. Though it is fairly quick."
"That's something."
"Peeta," she says, "You do need to tell me about District 7 though."
"I don't...what am I supposed to know about District 7? We're in the middle of the arena."
"Well, if you're psychic now. You can tell what their plans are. Why they're going to blow up a bunch of Peacekeepers...what they're going to try and do after that. Who they're working with."
"Now, you're not making sense, honey.";
"Maybe we'll just not bother about the medicine." She sticks her fingers into the hole in my leg, pain explodes behind my eyes, "Maybe you can just tell me now. Maybe you can tell me who you were working with. Who we're working with. Pretend I have amnesia. Clarify things for me."
"What are you?"
She gnashes her teeth at me. Long sharp fangs, "Didn't you ever wonder why I was gone so long? You were hiding out with your friends from 1 & 2 and I made some new friends as well." I feel something crack inside my leg. I thought it was painful before but that's nothing compared to know, and it rips and she pulls hard, more tearing and I realize once she pulls broken bone out in her now clawed hand that tearing was muscle and flesh, "Snow says hello!" she cackles as she stabs the sharp end of the bone into my stomach.
She's dragging me by my right leg. I'm not sure where I can't see properly other than flickering of light. My eyes are swelling shut. My body aches, bruises. Though the ground is strangely smooth and cool. My chest aches and I want to cough and clear what feels like phlegm but I'm afraid to. I feel I might explode in blood.
I think I make out her looking back here as though I might have escaped somehow when her claws are digging into my leg where she's holding me and my left leg is dangling at an odd angle given there's bone missing from the middle part and there's just flesh and a few strands of muscle holding my ankle and foot on to the upper part.
I think I have a concussion.
We stop quickly and I'm spun around. My head hits against something hard, and there's a slow shoooshing sound. We move again, brightness becomes darkness, sweaty, fetid darkness, full of other human smells, urine, feces, blood.
She pulls me towards the wall, through a damp patch on the floor and I'm fastened there, arms spread apart above my head.
"Wait here, sweetie. Someone will be here again soon." She puts a hand to my face. It's cool, "Hm. You're kind of warm."
There's an odd noise above me and then a jet of cold water hits me from above. It pulses on and off several times before I'm left alone, shivering in the dark.
I was born in District 12.
I worked in a baker's shop.
I survived two Hunger Games.
My name is Peeta Mellark.
I was born in District 12.
-+-+-+-
Two guards have come in and are unhooking me. I'm so done with this.
"No, let me go! I said-I said I'd be here!"
"Feisty today." They sound surprised.
I can't last long with it. I'm winded quickly and pissed with myself especially because they find it amusing as I try to push off he hits me across the face and I feel that frequent, familiar taste of blood in my mouth.
"Shit," one says.
"No, there's no broadcast. It's just medical."
There's palpable relief on the other's part as he hefts me over his shoulder the way I used to haul bags of flour and we go down the corridor, the swaying motion lulls me out and I'm not aware of much until I'm dropped roughly onto a cot. A bar goes across my middle and there are clamps around my upper thighs and around my right leg, and then my arms are once more chained above me. The cot is rotated so that I'm elevated, almost vertical. If I wasn't strapped every which way, and still without my replacement leg I could step off and walk.
Mr. Purple and Blue is there in the back of the room I can make him out despite the shadows because of the sharp contrast with the clothes of President Snow. This can only mean wonderful things for me, I swallow out of nerves, but it sparks a coughing fit. Snow looks over, and then points at me. A medical technician comes over and checks me over, can't have me choking to death before they're done with me, I suppose.
Snow takes a few steps closer to me, "You've given such passionate speeches for us," he says, "It's a shame they don't seem to be helping. Is it possible you're not truly giving it your all?"
If you can't say anything nice. Therefore I feel it's best to remain silent.
"Hm," Snow says, "You're normally such a wordsmith." He puts a hand on my chin and carefully pries my mouth open, "No. The tongue is still there. Good. I would hate to have to order someone else's execution today. I fear running out of useful people." He tuts.
"Things are ready," Mr. Purple and Blue says. Though today he's wearing mostly green--that's going to be confusing.
"Very well, Mr. Lethate," Snow says, "I'll leave you too it. I expect a full report."
"Of course." He nods to one of the technicians, who approaches with a syringe. They hook one of my arms up to a bag of fluids, which makes my hand cold and that spreads up my arm. The other arm is jabbed roughly by Purple and Blue--wearing green--Lethate, and there's that horrific burning again. I want to scrape and pull but the other arm is just as badly positioned.
"Let's see what you see this time," the light around his head spreds out as he speaks.
"How long do the raise duels last?" Snow's voice melts out of the door frame, "Eye prom ice dome point am door their four din hard you thin canape pan?"
I'm falling backwards.
Black smoke chokes me.
[edit: Lethate from (Lethe, the river of forgetfulness)+(Atë, goddess of ruin)]
-+-+-+-
"What was the plan for District 7?" the shining lamp stand asks. It bends and curves and I have a hard time following it's movement. I want to point at it but my hand doesn't move at first, and then it does like dough mid prep when you're making snakes to braid together.
Braids are pretty.
Katniss braids her hair.
"District 7?" there's a face in my noodle arm. That's not right.
Johanna is from District 7. Unzipping. There was unzipping. Haymitch laughing. Katniss upset in the elevator. We were high up. Too high.
I'm falling forward, stumbling. The riverbank coming up towards me, or am I coming down to it? Either way it's a jumbling mess, tearing at the already open wound on my leg. I stop for a moment taking that in. My leg. My leg is there. My real leg. Flesh. Blood. Blood everywhere. I'm probably leaving a...no, I fell down leaves and mud, that's probably way more of a trail. If he was going to follow and finish me off he would have already, but no...this has already...hasn't it?
"Let's get you cleaned off," Katniss is in the river, washing the blood from Wiress' body.
Johanna is cursing up a storm behind me on the bank, "I found her for you!"
I need to clean my wound too. It'll get infected. I'll lose the leg. I'll lose it.
"Then you fix her!" Katniss shoves Wiress towards Johanna, "I need to tend to Peeta," she waves to me from the water as Wiress spins in circles, "Tick tock, tick tock!"
"Screw you and your tick tock," Johanna mutters, "Drown for all I care. I got her here, whatever."
Other people should be here. Shouldn't there be...sand??
"What...happened...with...District...7...?" Wiress asks, with Beetee's voice as Katniss wades to the edge of the river, complaining that I've not come far enough towards her, "Why...would...they...burn...everything?" the sun on the river is far too bright.
"What are you talking about?" I ask Wiress, "Nothing's on fire here any more. Just the tidal--" No, this is the forest. There was fire in the forest, Katniss told me. The Girl on Fire caught fire.
Sharp pain in my leg, makes me turn, complaining loudly, "What are you?"
Katniss has jabbed her fingers into the wound, "It's deep."
"Of course it's deep. It was a sword. Cato...but Brutus was in the arena with Wiress and Johanna."
"What do you mean?" she asks, "You're not making any sense."
"Did you give rites to Seeder or Rue?"
Katniss shakes her head, "Give rites? Don't be ridiculous. Why would I give rites? Who has time for that? People are killing each other in here. Now come on. We need to get a move on before monkeys or dogs or something come for us."
"Or blood rain?"
"Blood rain? What blood rain?"
"The blood rain that Wiress and Johanna just came through..." I turn. There's no one else with us. We're in a cave. It's just the two of us.
She crawls towards me, "Peeta, you're not making sense. You've lost too much blood. You need to rest...and I can go to the Cornucopia."
"Please don't go to the Cornucopia." I pause, "but you're going to. You're going to drug me and go anyway."
"I don't..." she sits back on her legs, "We can both win, do you really want to die from blood poisoning?"
She's right. That doesn't make sense.
"Everyone else is going to the Cornucopia though. Clove. Cato. Thresh...they're the only ones alive at this point...no Foxface hasn't eaten nightlock yet. She's still here."
"What are you?" she puts her hand to my face, "You're burning up, but if you're burning up and turning psychic who am I to argue. I'm glad you know about nightlock though. That stuff is very, very dangerous. You don't need to eat that and die. Though it is fairly quick."
"That's something."
"Peeta," she says, "You do need to tell me about District 7 though."
"I don't...what am I supposed to know about District 7? We're in the middle of the arena."
"Well, if you're psychic now. You can tell what their plans are. Why they're going to blow up a bunch of Peacekeepers...what they're going to try and do after that. Who they're working with."
"Now, you're not making sense, honey.";
"Maybe we'll just not bother about the medicine." She sticks her fingers into the hole in my leg, pain explodes behind my eyes, "Maybe you can just tell me now. Maybe you can tell me who you were working with. Who we're working with. Pretend I have amnesia. Clarify things for me."
"What are you?"
She gnashes her teeth at me. Long sharp fangs, "Didn't you ever wonder why I was gone so long? You were hiding out with your friends from 1 & 2 and I made some new friends as well." I feel something crack inside my leg. I thought it was painful before but that's nothing compared to know, and it rips and she pulls hard, more tearing and I realize once she pulls broken bone out in her now clawed hand that tearing was muscle and flesh, "Snow says hello!" she cackles as she stabs the sharp end of the bone into my stomach.
She's dragging me by my right leg. I'm not sure where I can't see properly other than flickering of light. My eyes are swelling shut. My body aches, bruises. Though the ground is strangely smooth and cool. My chest aches and I want to cough and clear what feels like phlegm but I'm afraid to. I feel I might explode in blood.
I think I make out her looking back here as though I might have escaped somehow when her claws are digging into my leg where she's holding me and my left leg is dangling at an odd angle given there's bone missing from the middle part and there's just flesh and a few strands of muscle holding my ankle and foot on to the upper part.
I think I have a concussion.
We stop quickly and I'm spun around. My head hits against something hard, and there's a slow shoooshing sound. We move again, brightness becomes darkness, sweaty, fetid darkness, full of other human smells, urine, feces, blood.
She pulls me towards the wall, through a damp patch on the floor and I'm fastened there, arms spread apart above my head.
"Wait here, sweetie. Someone will be here again soon." She puts a hand to my face. It's cool, "Hm. You're kind of warm."
There's an odd noise above me and then a jet of cold water hits me from above. It pulses on and off several times before I'm left alone, shivering in the dark.