Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue.

[the_marshal]

WHO| Wyatt and OTA
WHAT| Christmas Shopping!
WHERE| Various Capitol shops
WHEN| After getting the Secret Santa notes
Warnings| None at the moment. Will edit if anything comes up!



Like all the others, Wyatt had discovered the note in his room directing him to come up with a gift for one of his fellow tributes for Christmas. Never mind that he'd never even met the "Iskierka" listed on the card, or even known there was any kind of gift exchange going on in the first place.

...But he couldn't say that the idea didn't appeal, the more he thought about it. There hadn't been much to celebrate, that first Christmas of his in the Capitol, but this year....

Picking up the strange card he'd been given - trying not to think of the funds they'd given him as blood money - he cornered his escort for information (the man tried at least to look sheepish for signing Wyatt up) and then headed out into the snow.

Even armed with everything his escort could tell him about Iskierka, Wyatt still had little idea where to start shopping for a dragon. While he chewed it over, he hunted down some other gifts, knowing nothing would really be able to tell Max or Howard what they meant to him, but wanting to do something, all the same.

Comments

[fire_punk]

He nodded and picked up a green one as well. He didn't know Blaine's favorite color. They hadn't talked about that.

"Do you know where science stuff would be?"

[the_marshal]

His brow wrinkled and a beat later his head shook.

"Sorry, son, can't say as I do. But I'm sure there's a worker er somebody here that can."

He glanced around, then back at Kevin.

"Look for somebody with a tag--" he tapped his chest, where his star would have been in another world. "Right here."

[fire_punk]

He nodded. He just didn't like having to talk to them. But it should be easier than talking to sponsors, right?

[the_marshal]

Wyatt stared at for a moment, then offered gently, "They don't bite, son."

[fire_punk]

"Not bite, no." He smiled nervously. He hadn't expected the man to notice. He felt stupid. "It's just shopping."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt tried to look sympathetic, though it was hard, not knowing what had upset the boy to start with.

"Ain't so bad, compared to other things we could be doin." He offered a small smile as he pulled another red blanket off the shelf, deciding then that, yes, red was the way to go. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

[fire_punk]

"Yeah, it's not too bad." It was only hard when he didn't know what he needed to get.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt nodded and reached up, tipping his hat at Kevin politely.

"Well, good luck, son."

[fire_punk]

Kevin frowned, confused. Why was this man calling him son? "You're not my dad..."

[the_marshal]

His mouth opened, then closed, a long breath pushing out through this nose.

"No. No, I ain't. It's jus' a sayin'. Like a nickname." He shook his head. "My apologies, if I upset ya any, I didn't mean it."

[fire_punk]

A nickname. "You mean where you come from?" He didn't exactly mind it. Not like he would have if Yvette had called him that. He didn't know what he felt about it, what he should feel about it.

[the_marshal]

"I don't we had any claim on the word, but I 'spose ya could say that."

He hadn't really heard anybody else, tribute or otherwise, use it the way he did.

"It's jus' a friendly way of referring to a young man yer speakin' to."

Especially if one didn't know their name, as this young person was a stranger to him. It was politer than saying 'you.'

[fire_punk]

Now Wyatt had a curious teen on his hands. It was easier to get distracted from what it made him feel. "And everyone says it? Where you're from?"

[the_marshal]

"Well, I never took a poll er nothin'," Wyatt replied, eyebrows quirking curiously. "But it was common enough."

He'd grown up with it, the word as familiar to him as his own name.

"Nobody ever said it where yer from?"

It was an almost foreign concept to him.

[fire_punk]

He shook his head. "Not that I heard. Not like that, anyway. Dad didn't, either." Didn't, not doesn't.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt paused at that, noting the tense.

Didn't.

"Like I said, jus' a friendly way of addressin' someone. If there's something ya prefer to be called, ya jus' gotta say so."

[fire_punk]

He shrugged. "It's okay. But I'm Kevin."

[the_marshal]

"Kevin, then," Wyatt echoed. He held out a hand. "Wyatt."

[fire_punk]

Kevin took his hand. Why on earth did people do that, anyway?

[the_marshal]

Wyatt arched a brow at the look on Kevin's face, the uncertainty with which he met the handshake.

"Jus' a handshake," he murmured, giving Kevin's hand a little pump before letting go. "Didn't mean nothin' by that either."

Did the boy not know what they were - like Max? Or did he just not like them?

[fire_punk]

"I know." He shrugged. He remembered them from when life was normal. "They do that at home, too. Usually when you meet someone."

[the_marshal]

So he just didn't like them then, Wyatt figured. Silently he wondered if he should apologize, or just let it go...

"Well, we did jus' meet," he pointed out.

But he'd remember that for next time: Kevin, no handshakes.

In the meantime, he supposed they'd been awkward enough at each other one day.

"But I reckon I should let ya get on with your shoppin' now." He tucked the heating blanket under his arm, nodded politely. "Still got some more of my own to do as well."

[fire_punk]

He nodded. He still had to find something sciencey for Holiday. And maybe he should figure out something for Pruna. Especially since she hadn't had a Christmas before.