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31_days2014-01-06 05:12 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2014-01-06 05:12 pm
[Jan. 6] [THG] Sentimental Exchange
Title: Sentimental Exchange
Day/Theme: Jan. 6, 2014 "There's so much I want to say to you."
Series: Hunger Games trilogy
Character/Pairing: Woof + OC victor (Pal Fields)
Rating: PG
Notes: loosely continuing from yesterday
They're home, they're walking outside, when Pal returns to that subject from that day in the hospital. "There's so much I want to say to you. …But it's difficult, see? I get scared because I don't know when someone might be listening. And I don't want to seem paranoid about them listening because then they might listen more carefully and read into things where there isn't anything there-"
His face starts to flush a bit as he works himself up in this anxious manner showing how there's something not quite right about him around the edges. "Half the victors are crazy," is the saying that Woof used to hear, but he's starting to think that it's just half of them show that they're crazy and half of them hide it.
Woof still feels himself slipping sometimes. There's something off about his equilibrium. It's in his ears, right? They didn't fix it properly, he thinks. Or is it just his imagination?
He's going to be one of the crazy ones who hide it. That's how they do things in District Eight.
Either way, he's practicing walking in a manner that he hopes will make up for it. He doesn't want to spend his Victory Tour tripping and falling. People will laugh at him. It already seems like people in the Capitol were laughing at him, whether that was true or not. He is not elegant like Aura, who proceeded him, or skillful, like Jack Johnson or Deryn before that. The Games are undergoing a slight shift in definition, at least as far as the inner districts are concerned. There is some different element of preparation underscoring the entry of annually volunteering Ones and Twos and possibly Fours. That didn't stop Woof from beating out them all this year, but he does not feel poised to find his closest colleagues in victor-hood as natural friends.
Instead, for now, there is mostly just Pal. Pal, who seems ancient at times with the weight of the girl he saved once but could not save forever aging him faster than all the other hurdles the Capitol has placed around him, but is really just twenty-four.
Woof's seventeen. The age gap between them shouldn't really have to mean that much.
"If I love something, all I can think is how they're going to destroy it," Pal's rambling comes back into focus for Woof, "I'm sure that's not entirely rational, but it's hard to feel otherwise given the way my mother and most of my sisters died after I won, and then what happened with Silk… And even if they weren't my fault, I do feel connected to the horrible things that happened to Jack and Emmy and Mags…" he sighs.
"It makes you happy to love people though, right?" Woof finally speaks up, "It's in your nature, isn't it? Seeing as it comes to you so easily. You shouldn't think of that as a bad thing."
"Oh." Pal pauses. The color of his face has turned again. He's blushing a little. He's touched.
"I like you a lot too." Woof trains his gray eyes on Pal's brown ones. "…And I don't know about your family, but no matter how much they may have wanted to hurt you, I don't think they touched any of the other victors- not even Miss Silk- to get to you. It was coincidental. They want us around as symbols. I'm sure they take…precautions now. Maybe that's even why they're listening. To try and prevent…you know. They don't want to burn through us at such speed."
Woof holds out his hand. "Which, I'd posit, means it's safer to love another victor than anyone else."
"You might see there are worse things they can do than make or let you die," Pal worries, though his gaze hews to Woof's open palm like it's been embroidered there.
"I promise I won't go before you."
"N-now," Pal's eyes break away to resist the temptation of such an offer, "As your mentor, I won't let you say that, as much as I appreciate the sentiment. If there's danger to be gone into, I will be the one leading the way."
It sort of makes Woof want to laugh.
"Please, Woof," Pal takes his hand, "Let me be successful this once. Let me protect you."
The feel of Pal's hand in his- it is pleasantly warm and calloused from his house- and craft-work. Woof nods absently, all focused on the camaraderie of this friendly touch. "…but there must be something I can do for you in return…?" he suggests.
Pal does not hesitate on this point: "Mentor the girls. At this point, I'm not sure I can tell if I will ever be able to properly mentor a girl again."
It's sincere, but it's also amusing. Woof puts his free hand to his chest with flare of a melodrama in the gesture. "A simple enough desire! I will handle the girls!"
"I do," Pal grabs him into a surprising (part of Woof gets ready to fight back, to shove him away, to react because this is- this is dangerous), but gentle enough, hug. There are traces of tears in his eyes, "I do love you very much."
"Yeah, yeah," Woof pats his mentor's back, "I know."
Day/Theme: Jan. 6, 2014 "There's so much I want to say to you."
Series: Hunger Games trilogy
Character/Pairing: Woof + OC victor (Pal Fields)
Rating: PG
Notes: loosely continuing from yesterday
They're home, they're walking outside, when Pal returns to that subject from that day in the hospital. "There's so much I want to say to you. …But it's difficult, see? I get scared because I don't know when someone might be listening. And I don't want to seem paranoid about them listening because then they might listen more carefully and read into things where there isn't anything there-"
His face starts to flush a bit as he works himself up in this anxious manner showing how there's something not quite right about him around the edges. "Half the victors are crazy," is the saying that Woof used to hear, but he's starting to think that it's just half of them show that they're crazy and half of them hide it.
Woof still feels himself slipping sometimes. There's something off about his equilibrium. It's in his ears, right? They didn't fix it properly, he thinks. Or is it just his imagination?
He's going to be one of the crazy ones who hide it. That's how they do things in District Eight.
Either way, he's practicing walking in a manner that he hopes will make up for it. He doesn't want to spend his Victory Tour tripping and falling. People will laugh at him. It already seems like people in the Capitol were laughing at him, whether that was true or not. He is not elegant like Aura, who proceeded him, or skillful, like Jack Johnson or Deryn before that. The Games are undergoing a slight shift in definition, at least as far as the inner districts are concerned. There is some different element of preparation underscoring the entry of annually volunteering Ones and Twos and possibly Fours. That didn't stop Woof from beating out them all this year, but he does not feel poised to find his closest colleagues in victor-hood as natural friends.
Instead, for now, there is mostly just Pal. Pal, who seems ancient at times with the weight of the girl he saved once but could not save forever aging him faster than all the other hurdles the Capitol has placed around him, but is really just twenty-four.
Woof's seventeen. The age gap between them shouldn't really have to mean that much.
"If I love something, all I can think is how they're going to destroy it," Pal's rambling comes back into focus for Woof, "I'm sure that's not entirely rational, but it's hard to feel otherwise given the way my mother and most of my sisters died after I won, and then what happened with Silk… And even if they weren't my fault, I do feel connected to the horrible things that happened to Jack and Emmy and Mags…" he sighs.
"It makes you happy to love people though, right?" Woof finally speaks up, "It's in your nature, isn't it? Seeing as it comes to you so easily. You shouldn't think of that as a bad thing."
"Oh." Pal pauses. The color of his face has turned again. He's blushing a little. He's touched.
"I like you a lot too." Woof trains his gray eyes on Pal's brown ones. "…And I don't know about your family, but no matter how much they may have wanted to hurt you, I don't think they touched any of the other victors- not even Miss Silk- to get to you. It was coincidental. They want us around as symbols. I'm sure they take…precautions now. Maybe that's even why they're listening. To try and prevent…you know. They don't want to burn through us at such speed."
Woof holds out his hand. "Which, I'd posit, means it's safer to love another victor than anyone else."
"You might see there are worse things they can do than make or let you die," Pal worries, though his gaze hews to Woof's open palm like it's been embroidered there.
"I promise I won't go before you."
"N-now," Pal's eyes break away to resist the temptation of such an offer, "As your mentor, I won't let you say that, as much as I appreciate the sentiment. If there's danger to be gone into, I will be the one leading the way."
It sort of makes Woof want to laugh.
"Please, Woof," Pal takes his hand, "Let me be successful this once. Let me protect you."
The feel of Pal's hand in his- it is pleasantly warm and calloused from his house- and craft-work. Woof nods absently, all focused on the camaraderie of this friendly touch. "…but there must be something I can do for you in return…?" he suggests.
Pal does not hesitate on this point: "Mentor the girls. At this point, I'm not sure I can tell if I will ever be able to properly mentor a girl again."
It's sincere, but it's also amusing. Woof puts his free hand to his chest with flare of a melodrama in the gesture. "A simple enough desire! I will handle the girls!"
"I do," Pal grabs him into a surprising (part of Woof gets ready to fight back, to shove him away, to react because this is- this is dangerous), but gentle enough, hug. There are traces of tears in his eyes, "I do love you very much."
"Yeah, yeah," Woof pats his mentor's back, "I know."