thecapitol | It's a symbol without meaning.

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It's a symbol without meaning.

Who: Sandy and you
What: She's back from the arena and doesn't like what she sees
Where: District 12 common area.
When: After the arena
Warnings: TW: Self harm, child suffering, mentions of violence and death...all pretty standard hunger games.

The District 12 suite may have had plenty of residents but without Effie it seemed cold and empty.

Sandy had awoken to a clean room as she always did. Her paintings were removed from the walls and ceilings again.

Normally she would start painting right away, to get all the demons and nightmares out of her head. But today felt different. Today she rose and shuffled over to the mirror to see who would be looking back at her.

Pale and thin, the same way she'd arrived. Brushing back her bangs she saw the brand as clear as day. The Capitol logo, the perfect circle. A mark of ownership and weakness.

She hated it. It made her stomach twist with self loathing.

She brought her hands up and scratched at it leaving deep red marks through the middle. Something about the way it burned felt good to her. It felt like defiance. She scratched again, and again till the red grew darker and her forehead felt like fire.

She needed something more. Something that would really disfigure the symbol. Before she knew what she was doing her arm lashed out knocking a gaudy looking lamp from the desk. When it shattered her desperate fingers groped through the wreckage and found a long thin piece that came to a point.

Perfect.

With trembling fingers and wide eyes she pulled back her bangs once more and attacked her forehead with the glass, slicing clean through the circle from the top left to the bottom right. Then the opposite side making a perfect X. Then down the center of the X. Then across.

By this point blood and tears were running down her face and dripping onto the vanity. She had to grope for tissues to wipe it from her face but the thin paper wasn't enough though and she grabbed for a shirt out of her wardrobe.

With her tools at hand she resumed her work while her breathing became ragged and her skin darkened with flush. A shine of sweat mingled with the tears and blood as evidence of the effort it was taking her to continue. When the pain became more then she could handle the glass fell from her fingers and she let out a pathetic whimpering cry.

Looking into the mirror she saw blood and fear. She was looking into the eyes of the monster Penny as blood gushed from a stomach wound. She'd learned how painful and deadly a stomach wound could be, but once she'd buried the knife in Penny the first time she couldn't stop herself from doing it again and again. By the time she'd stopped stabbing penny she was covered in the woman's blood.

The memory faded and Sandy realized she was looking at her own blood, not Penny's.

She's gone...she can't hurt anyone ever again.

She would take a shower, clean her fresh wounds and pull a hat on to hide it from others.

She didn't deserve their pity or worry after so many failures.

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She followed his lead taking a seat with him feeling a bit silly but brushing it off easily. It seemed like even when she didn't fully understand his advice it made her feel better.

The question however...did not. If he was talking about the first kill...

"No...I killed to avenge someone. I was so angry...and the time after that it was because I was afraid I was going to get hurt but he was just trying to save me from someone else. I couldn't even kill him fast it was slow and awful." She explained quickly glossing over how many kills she'd actually committed in the arena.

He listens careful and patient. Each thing gets a proper mulling over. He nods.

"Alright. S'OKAY. It happens, trust me." He reaches up to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"GONE UP AND OVER YOU HAVE FOR SUCH THINGS AS TO PROTECT YOUR OWNSELF. You got your rage, you've got a drive. NOW YOU NEED TO CONTROL IT, AIGHT? If it's hurting you more than saving, then you're going on it too hard. AIN'T WANT TO BE BURNOUT," He assures her. He breathes deep and sit with his back straight. He lets his palms fall open on his knees.

"No more strife lessons. WE LEARN TO BALANCE NOW." Which, he admits, he isn't the best at. But he's gotten better. He thinks maybe, he can almost do it now. "This matters up on your monsters too. YOU'RE A LITTLE INDIGOAT WHAT DONE GONE PUSHED VOODOO TOO FAR. But you can come back from it. THE FUNNY THING IS, YOU USE FOR THE SAME THINGS WHAT DRIVE. It's a reverse. YOU DRIVE YOURSELF ON TO WHAT YOU GOT TO, AS YOU'VE DONE SO FAR. Now, chill with me. YOUR LOVE LOST, WHAT WOULD THEY DO TO EASE YOU? Would they be about that?"

Sandy hung her head in shame once more and thought about Effie. As always even the idea of Effie twisted a knife in her chest and made her remember that horrible image of her on the screens of data pads and TVs everywhere.

Broken.

"She...usually would hold me. And she would make me this special tea to help me sleep. I guess it's got something in it...she said she drinks it every night.

The sad reality of the fact that Effie had been drugging herself to sleep for years was not lost on Sandy, nor was it overlooked that she too now required that Tea to get a solid eight hours at best.

He nods solemn. His hands rise up, one folding over his chest and one going on top the other hand.

"HOLD HER THERE," He says. "Hold her image up in pan and her presence all the motherfuck around you. THINK ON THE WARMTH OF THE SPECIAL TEAS AS WHAT YOU SAID. Think her like to be guiding your hands and self. YOU AND SHE. She and you."

His hands move and sway, as he speaks, all while his eyes are closed. If she ain't guessed, he's imagining his own thing similar as he gets to do it. He feels Mituna's ghost.

"AND WHEN YOU NEED FOR STOPPING," He says, sounding distant. "Let them stop you. YOU HOLD THAT IN YOU. And you let it be." He sighs. "CAN BE ABOUT FINDING YOUR TEA IN MEAN TIME. Sure at someone must know.'

Sandy followed his lead bringing her hands up to her chest and holding them there. Thinking about holding Effie close, or about letting the pink haired woman stop her when she was losing her temper was enough to start fresh hot tears running from the corners of her eyes down her cheeks. Ashamed of this apparent weakness she brought a hand up to wipe them away.

"It's in the cupboard, left of the sink in the purple box."

Thankfully whoever kept restocking the kitchen kept the Tea in supply, still Sandy had been forced to learn how to make it herself after Effie's disappearance.

"THAT'S GOOD. That's good as what to motherfucking know," He says. It'll help just that little bit more.

He reaches out careful to her, to brush back them tears remaining. He never lets his claws scratch her flesh. He won't let her think she ought to feel shame.

"WANT YOU TO MOTHERFUCKING REMEMBER THAT. Remember what as I said, as what to do. KNOW THAT NO MATTER WHAT MOTHERFUCKING HAPPENS, THAT TEA WHAT SHE GAVE YOU IS GOING TO BE THERE STILL. It will be somewhere just as she is. IF YOU FEEL YOU'S LOOSING CONTROL, FALL THE FUCK BACK ON IT." That's what a moirail is for, as he's starting to think this missing person maybe was for her afterall.

"You want to make some now?"

Edited 2014-10-16 03:15 (UTC)

She listened through shiny red rimmed eyes and nodded gently. Could she really lean on the tea to be her last tangible connection to Effie?

Probably. Goodness knows she never got enough sleep.

With a gentle nod she sniffled again.

"I should be better then this. It's not like I'm alone...but I thought Pruna was gone forever and Effie right after...I have other people in my life but those two one after the other? Normal people can handle that can't they?"

She seemed to be arguing with herself both pointing out how painful it had been and also what she wanted to believe about adults.

He rises up to his feet, waiting for her to follow suit. District twelve ain't one he tends to go to be in so he can't much lead the way full and proper, but he can make guesses as to what the right way would be.

He shakes his head at her words, all likely shattering perceptions. But what can he really help with that?

"NO," He pitches in to her semi-private back-and-forth. And along that, he notes a name. Effie. Sandy's moirail. "Losing two up at once, especially ones what was your standing stability. IT'S EASY TO COME APART AND UNFUCKINGDO YOUR OWNSELF. When my moirail got gone, I couldn't think none at first aside turning the tower to mincing. THINK IT'S MORE RARE OF HANDLING THAT MOTHERFUCKERS CAN. Besides, what the fuck even is normal here?"

He had a point, and as Sandy filled a cup with hot water for the tea she watched the steam rise up out of it, drifting like a ghost.

"Not me that's for sure."

Anything that she had once considered normal was long since gone.

"I guess I thought I'd feel different by now. I thought I was stronger because of everything we've gone through but I can still get hurt. Apparently really badly."

"HIM NEITHER," He says, watching idle as all she gets about her tea. He's never known normal. He never would.

He shakes his head, solemn and serious. "'Fraid motherfucking not. THERE'S GETTING CAREFUL AS TO NOT BE HURT AGAIN. There's keeping it all shut tight up until such things being to break. THERE'S MAKING TO SURVIVE OR JUST NOT DIE. But I ain't know nobody what don't know pain."

His words are all laced with unspoken apology.

"WAY I FIGURE, IT'S LIKE... you get your bones broke. SHIT HURTS. Don't make it hurt all less than as when you stub your motherfucking walk stubs though."

Sandy took a small dark green pellet from the box and dropped it into the cup, instantly a rich lavender aroma began to rise with the steam and the drink seemed to sparkle as the mixture combined with water.

"I still love the weird way you talk. We just call them toes but I like walk stubs." She smiled gently and blew on the drink to take a sip. Her shoulders sunk gently as the familiar scent and flavor washed over her.

"So we're both weird, we're both hurting, and we're gonna be there for each other." she concluded leaning into him again.

"Like family is supposed to do."

He gets a lot of people hating on his preach, on Alternian and off. But it's the way of the family and it's the way what always made him feel best. No other way has he known.

Hearing someone making to say they like it? Well, that's a sort of special, that.

And she takes him all by surprise with call of family. But it's right, good, true. With the easing of her comes the easing of him. He leans a little into her, while keeping as her support.

"THAT'S RIGHT. Like family get's supposing to be doing."

Like real family.

She stirs the drink with her finger, blows on it once and then sips it with another deep breath letting it out through her nose with a faint whistle.

"Meeting you guys is about the only thing I'll ever thank the Capitol for. I never had that many friends back home. And my parents weren't really around." She explained looking at her reflection in the tea.

"You guys make me feel wanted. You make dying not so bad."

"SENTIMENTS BEING SIMILARWAYS," He assures. "All such noise, befitting." No friend, no guardian.

"NEVER FEARED NO DEATH. But I feared other things. THINGS MADE WORTH IT." A pause follows, then, "Glad you're back, little sister."

Setting the drink down gently she turned to wrap her arms around him in as tight a hug as she could manage.

"Glad to be back brother." She mumbled into his chest taking comfort in his warmth and scent.

He was a constant reminder that no matter how bad things got, the Capitol had given her this family.

And so to thank them for that she would help rip this place apart piece by piece so they could rebuild it into something better.

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It's a symbol without meaning.

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