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31_days2014-10-01 05:06 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2014-10-01 05:06 pm
[Oct. 1] [THG] Make Something Good
Title: Make Something Good
Day/Theme: Oct. 1, 2014 "but are you satisfied with that? don't you want to make it come true?"
Series: Hunger Games trilogy
Character/Pairing: mainly original D4 characters (but you may recognize them if you've read other fics of mine-> Tyde, Rita, Shad) + Mags
Rating: PG
His mother and father don't move into the new house with him. "You won it, Tyde," his father says, "You deserve it," and it feels to Tyde like an accusation. 'Didn't you want me to win it, Dad?' he thinks, with rising irritation. Nobody shouts and no one argues, but what's left between them isn't right.
Rita is the opposite of Mama and Dad. She cozies right up and starts cooking and organizing and looking after him without even being officially asked. When Mags comes by and sees Rita at work it doesn't take long for a strange look to cross her face, but she doesn't comment. If Tyde really wants to know, he's going to have to ask. In this way, his mentor and her father reflect one another. What will it be like to have the two most studiedly neutral neighbors in all the district?
So he supposes things are probably going to work out all right with Rita.
The new skin on his feet is tender, so he has to take it easy more than he'd like to. At least these strictures don't have to curtail his swimming any. That'll keep him out and active without working his feet too hard too fast. He goes out and swims and he can see some of the kids (they all feel definitively like kids now, though some of them are only a couple of months younger than him) swimming and horsing around and watching him from a distance, but they politely maintain that space. If Tyde wants to talk (he sort of wants to), he's going to have to be the one to approach them, he thinks.
When he gets back to the house, Rita's waiting with dinner almost finished. "That smells good," he says, "You work so hard and I don't know how you keep your hair so neat while you do all that."
Rita's lips make a smile, but her brow stays bent. "You're easy to please. You like pretty much whatever, Tyde."
Her stepfather isn't, he thinks. Maybe they ought to get married sooner than later. She won't have to go back to that house by the creek mouth then and no one will talk either (he'd tell her not to go back either way). "Rita, I love you," he says.
"I love you too," she takes the scarf off her hair, "Now sit down, the ice is going to melt and water down your drink."
He's sitting on the front porch when an unmistakable member of the Club shows up. Shad Atwater, awkward and scrawny as just about any of them, but distinctively droopy-eyed and sort of blondish. "Hey, Tyde," he stands looking down, holding something behind his back, "Are you gonna come back to Club meetings soon? I'm sure I'm not the only one missing you there."
"Yeah, I'll be back." It feels good to say it. "Soon. It'd be good to get back to the same old regular business. I'm kind of just waiting on my feet a little longer."
Shad stretches out his arm, dangling a pair of straw sandals in front of the new victor, "These are for you. I mean, I know they're not going to help, but I kept thinking about your poor feet…how the soles of your boots was burnt right through… Mags helped me with them."
Tyde accepts the gift. "Aww, thanks. I know you're good with your hands, so I'm glad Mags was there to provide the very important skill of know how wide my big feet are."
"They're not that wide…" Shad insists politely, though he begins to laugh a little.
"I appreciate it, Shad. I do."
"They could make you some too I bet, Rita," Tyde suggests, modeling the sandals for his new bride. He was home from the Capitol for two weeks before they tied the knot. No other victors has gotten married so fast. So eager, they laughed, we know what carried you through it all, Tyde.
She shakes her head. "They're fine for you, but I don't want any."
"What if I want to buy you a pair of shoes the next time I'm in the Capitol?" he tries to be calm and create something pleasant out of the conversation, "What color would you like?"
Rita looks down at her feet. "…I don't need that." She shakes her head a little and a bit of her hair comes loose and falls to hang against her shoulder. "I guess if you really want to, green though," she relents, "A deep green. That would match enough of my clothes."
He loves Rita, really, truly, he does (or he's never loved anyone if not), but she's difficult. She has these moods and before the arena he was patient and it was easy and now he tries- he still tries to be patient, but it's become much harder for some reason. "I would like to. If I can afford all kind of useless extravagances, I might as well be able to buy you a nice little present or two."
"I'm not looking forward to your trip…" she admits.
His Tour, that is. Tyde's not exactly looking forward to it either, but he won't be alone and he's not going to have to kill anyone or face further injury so it doesn't seem worth complaining about. He wonders how Rita's going to be while he's gone. Not that she can't take care of herself, but will she be lonely? She doesn't seem to have any very close friends and whenever he's tried to bring it up, she gets defensive.
She doesn't seem to like Mags all that much either, or his old colleagues and the kids at the Club, and that's a disappointment. But they both love children. They'll have three or four, they think when they discuss it. There will be someone else then that they both care about. A reason to connect with other people around the town maybe. Kids'll go to school eventually. Maybe he can volunteer there.
He's over at Mags' place and they're playing with Jules, her godson, who's tiny and adorable because he talks and talks but all of it is the thickest, most garbled little kid chatter and yet Mags understands almost every word he says. Jules is pulling a wooden boat on a string along the floor and apparently detailing its various travails. It's his father's boat, he says. Reza Surfjan is one of those people who owns his own boat, bought with his own money, and is extremely proud of it.
"You're the kind of person who wants to fix things," Mags says.
"I think you're describing yourself," Tyde smiles at his mentor. Or maybe they're both that way.
"So what do you want then, Tyde?" she inquires, in a manner kind and casual. She leans her head in her hand.
"To make something good." That's about it. That'd be enough.
Day/Theme: Oct. 1, 2014 "but are you satisfied with that? don't you want to make it come true?"
Series: Hunger Games trilogy
Character/Pairing: mainly original D4 characters (but you may recognize them if you've read other fics of mine-> Tyde, Rita, Shad) + Mags
Rating: PG
His mother and father don't move into the new house with him. "You won it, Tyde," his father says, "You deserve it," and it feels to Tyde like an accusation. 'Didn't you want me to win it, Dad?' he thinks, with rising irritation. Nobody shouts and no one argues, but what's left between them isn't right.
Rita is the opposite of Mama and Dad. She cozies right up and starts cooking and organizing and looking after him without even being officially asked. When Mags comes by and sees Rita at work it doesn't take long for a strange look to cross her face, but she doesn't comment. If Tyde really wants to know, he's going to have to ask. In this way, his mentor and her father reflect one another. What will it be like to have the two most studiedly neutral neighbors in all the district?
So he supposes things are probably going to work out all right with Rita.
The new skin on his feet is tender, so he has to take it easy more than he'd like to. At least these strictures don't have to curtail his swimming any. That'll keep him out and active without working his feet too hard too fast. He goes out and swims and he can see some of the kids (they all feel definitively like kids now, though some of them are only a couple of months younger than him) swimming and horsing around and watching him from a distance, but they politely maintain that space. If Tyde wants to talk (he sort of wants to), he's going to have to be the one to approach them, he thinks.
When he gets back to the house, Rita's waiting with dinner almost finished. "That smells good," he says, "You work so hard and I don't know how you keep your hair so neat while you do all that."
Rita's lips make a smile, but her brow stays bent. "You're easy to please. You like pretty much whatever, Tyde."
Her stepfather isn't, he thinks. Maybe they ought to get married sooner than later. She won't have to go back to that house by the creek mouth then and no one will talk either (he'd tell her not to go back either way). "Rita, I love you," he says.
"I love you too," she takes the scarf off her hair, "Now sit down, the ice is going to melt and water down your drink."
He's sitting on the front porch when an unmistakable member of the Club shows up. Shad Atwater, awkward and scrawny as just about any of them, but distinctively droopy-eyed and sort of blondish. "Hey, Tyde," he stands looking down, holding something behind his back, "Are you gonna come back to Club meetings soon? I'm sure I'm not the only one missing you there."
"Yeah, I'll be back." It feels good to say it. "Soon. It'd be good to get back to the same old regular business. I'm kind of just waiting on my feet a little longer."
Shad stretches out his arm, dangling a pair of straw sandals in front of the new victor, "These are for you. I mean, I know they're not going to help, but I kept thinking about your poor feet…how the soles of your boots was burnt right through… Mags helped me with them."
Tyde accepts the gift. "Aww, thanks. I know you're good with your hands, so I'm glad Mags was there to provide the very important skill of know how wide my big feet are."
"They're not that wide…" Shad insists politely, though he begins to laugh a little.
"I appreciate it, Shad. I do."
"They could make you some too I bet, Rita," Tyde suggests, modeling the sandals for his new bride. He was home from the Capitol for two weeks before they tied the knot. No other victors has gotten married so fast. So eager, they laughed, we know what carried you through it all, Tyde.
She shakes her head. "They're fine for you, but I don't want any."
"What if I want to buy you a pair of shoes the next time I'm in the Capitol?" he tries to be calm and create something pleasant out of the conversation, "What color would you like?"
Rita looks down at her feet. "…I don't need that." She shakes her head a little and a bit of her hair comes loose and falls to hang against her shoulder. "I guess if you really want to, green though," she relents, "A deep green. That would match enough of my clothes."
He loves Rita, really, truly, he does (or he's never loved anyone if not), but she's difficult. She has these moods and before the arena he was patient and it was easy and now he tries- he still tries to be patient, but it's become much harder for some reason. "I would like to. If I can afford all kind of useless extravagances, I might as well be able to buy you a nice little present or two."
"I'm not looking forward to your trip…" she admits.
His Tour, that is. Tyde's not exactly looking forward to it either, but he won't be alone and he's not going to have to kill anyone or face further injury so it doesn't seem worth complaining about. He wonders how Rita's going to be while he's gone. Not that she can't take care of herself, but will she be lonely? She doesn't seem to have any very close friends and whenever he's tried to bring it up, she gets defensive.
She doesn't seem to like Mags all that much either, or his old colleagues and the kids at the Club, and that's a disappointment. But they both love children. They'll have three or four, they think when they discuss it. There will be someone else then that they both care about. A reason to connect with other people around the town maybe. Kids'll go to school eventually. Maybe he can volunteer there.
He's over at Mags' place and they're playing with Jules, her godson, who's tiny and adorable because he talks and talks but all of it is the thickest, most garbled little kid chatter and yet Mags understands almost every word he says. Jules is pulling a wooden boat on a string along the floor and apparently detailing its various travails. It's his father's boat, he says. Reza Surfjan is one of those people who owns his own boat, bought with his own money, and is extremely proud of it.
"You're the kind of person who wants to fix things," Mags says.
"I think you're describing yourself," Tyde smiles at his mentor. Or maybe they're both that way.
"So what do you want then, Tyde?" she inquires, in a manner kind and casual. She leans her head in her hand.
"To make something good." That's about it. That'd be enough.