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31_days2016-06-03 11:07 am
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2016-06-03 11:07 am
[June 3] [Hunger Games] In With the Tide
Title: In With the Tide
Day/Theme: June 3, 2016 - "the sea is rising...and the world is sand"
Series: Hunger Games series
Character/Pairing: Mags, etc.
Rating: PG
The first time Mags meets with an agent of District Thirteen she is visiting the aquarium in the Capitol. Her memories of this place are thickly textured, stretching back to strolling hand in hand with Jack (with a television crew in tow, no less) and later walks alone to revisit that time, paying specially to be allowed in after-hours, alone, to relatively recent outings with Theo, who remains, much of the time, as seemingly young as he struck her going into the arena, and never speaks a word of resentment over the overwhelming portion of his time in the Capitol spent chaperoned by an old woman.
She doesn't know the agent on sight, but she's recognizable enough to trust that the agent will be able to pick her out to approach anyway and will say something that will make her sure just as Beetee previously intimated.
Beetee is right.
"Mrs. Umber?"
Beetee is usually right.
"…Yes…?" Mags stands more still and intent than she thinks she has in years.
"Nice to meet you." The agent's look is well-calculated to blend into the Capitol- she's of a medium height, including her demure, white kitten heels, which is still enough to render her notably taller than Mags, her long brown hair (probably its natural shade) is dyed gold at the tips and threaded with beads, and her white and gold ensemble is neither cutting edge enough or too far out of season to attract undue attention.
The conversation they have at the aquarium, wandering casually in between the tanks of jellyfish, is simple enough, but it's not as if either of them met thinking they'd reshape the entire nation right there, just two women moving amidst the crowds. What's important is that they've met. That the agent has confirmed for herself that Mags' thoughts are precisely where Beetee had said they were. With each trustworthy ally gained, the movement will gain deeper roots, and Mags has had decades to make up her mind about the leanings and personalities of her oldest colleagues. The agent might not take her tips, but at least she can give them (there's part of her disappointed that Jack isn't here for this; there's another part of her rueing that this is a path Ronan can't follow; in other quarters, her hopes are of varying strengths, but at least there are hopes).
The second time Mags meets an agent of District Thirteen, she's on a train and the agent is part of the crew. The man was born in Six, but that doesn't make him any less a proud party to what is beginning to unfold than the woman from Thirteen in the Capitol. He passes her a message and, in return, makes an inquiry about the radio frequencies that might be being employed as a means of communication between fishing boats, but she's barely been on even one of the smaller, privately-owned fishing craft in years and has no idea where to begin. "The person you need to talk to is Tyde," she says. Among their victors, she imagines him likeliest to know.
The third time Mags meets an agent of District Thirteen, it's that much clearer that the world she's known for decades (making up almost all of her life that she remembers) is being swept away. Pal, making an occasional return to the mentoring circuit to pick up the slack left by Woof's faltering mental facilities, fills her in on the various currents of revolt and agitation swirling beneath the surface in Eight- another strong thread to braid into rope of dissent.
"H-hey," Blight interrupts their idle chatter (half hints of rebel intent and half ordinary elderly friends conversation- asking after the children and grandchildren of their junior victors and reminiscing about days long past and comparing the various aches and pains of their old age), "D-do either of you want to meet my new boyfriend? I met him through Plutarch."
"Well, I don't know about the pros of meeting men via Gamemakers," Mags laughs.
"Some handsome young fellow won't be bored by people like us?" Pal wonders.
"I thought it'd give him some per-per-perspective about what the lives of victors wind up like," Blight shrugs, "Anyway, he's met Reinhold and Kayta already and if they haven't bored a guy to tears…"
It turns out the man in question is only playing at being Blight's boyfriend (whatever on and off thing Blight has back home means a lot more to him than he wants the Capitol to know, Mags thinks) and he's also only playing at being a Capitolite, but he wears both rolls well.
"Our president thinks that we should just pick a time and swoop in, but she still agrees that the cooperation of many, if not all, of the districts is necessary. And those with a little more media savvy think that nothing can motivate across the various districts as something broadcast on television."
"The Games," Mags supposes.
"I think it's something that can't really be set up beforehand," Blight's fake boyfriend goes on, "But if it's right, it will speak to all sorts of people. We'll know it when we see it."
"Say what you said b-b-b-- earlier," Blight prompts him. "What it will b-be."
"What do you mean? That we're looking for a 'spark'?"
Day/Theme: June 3, 2016 - "the sea is rising...and the world is sand"
Series: Hunger Games series
Character/Pairing: Mags, etc.
Rating: PG
The first time Mags meets with an agent of District Thirteen she is visiting the aquarium in the Capitol. Her memories of this place are thickly textured, stretching back to strolling hand in hand with Jack (with a television crew in tow, no less) and later walks alone to revisit that time, paying specially to be allowed in after-hours, alone, to relatively recent outings with Theo, who remains, much of the time, as seemingly young as he struck her going into the arena, and never speaks a word of resentment over the overwhelming portion of his time in the Capitol spent chaperoned by an old woman.
She doesn't know the agent on sight, but she's recognizable enough to trust that the agent will be able to pick her out to approach anyway and will say something that will make her sure just as Beetee previously intimated.
Beetee is right.
"Mrs. Umber?"
Beetee is usually right.
"…Yes…?" Mags stands more still and intent than she thinks she has in years.
"Nice to meet you." The agent's look is well-calculated to blend into the Capitol- she's of a medium height, including her demure, white kitten heels, which is still enough to render her notably taller than Mags, her long brown hair (probably its natural shade) is dyed gold at the tips and threaded with beads, and her white and gold ensemble is neither cutting edge enough or too far out of season to attract undue attention.
The conversation they have at the aquarium, wandering casually in between the tanks of jellyfish, is simple enough, but it's not as if either of them met thinking they'd reshape the entire nation right there, just two women moving amidst the crowds. What's important is that they've met. That the agent has confirmed for herself that Mags' thoughts are precisely where Beetee had said they were. With each trustworthy ally gained, the movement will gain deeper roots, and Mags has had decades to make up her mind about the leanings and personalities of her oldest colleagues. The agent might not take her tips, but at least she can give them (there's part of her disappointed that Jack isn't here for this; there's another part of her rueing that this is a path Ronan can't follow; in other quarters, her hopes are of varying strengths, but at least there are hopes).
The second time Mags meets an agent of District Thirteen, she's on a train and the agent is part of the crew. The man was born in Six, but that doesn't make him any less a proud party to what is beginning to unfold than the woman from Thirteen in the Capitol. He passes her a message and, in return, makes an inquiry about the radio frequencies that might be being employed as a means of communication between fishing boats, but she's barely been on even one of the smaller, privately-owned fishing craft in years and has no idea where to begin. "The person you need to talk to is Tyde," she says. Among their victors, she imagines him likeliest to know.
The third time Mags meets an agent of District Thirteen, it's that much clearer that the world she's known for decades (making up almost all of her life that she remembers) is being swept away. Pal, making an occasional return to the mentoring circuit to pick up the slack left by Woof's faltering mental facilities, fills her in on the various currents of revolt and agitation swirling beneath the surface in Eight- another strong thread to braid into rope of dissent.
"H-hey," Blight interrupts their idle chatter (half hints of rebel intent and half ordinary elderly friends conversation- asking after the children and grandchildren of their junior victors and reminiscing about days long past and comparing the various aches and pains of their old age), "D-do either of you want to meet my new boyfriend? I met him through Plutarch."
"Well, I don't know about the pros of meeting men via Gamemakers," Mags laughs.
"Some handsome young fellow won't be bored by people like us?" Pal wonders.
"I thought it'd give him some per-per-perspective about what the lives of victors wind up like," Blight shrugs, "Anyway, he's met Reinhold and Kayta already and if they haven't bored a guy to tears…"
It turns out the man in question is only playing at being Blight's boyfriend (whatever on and off thing Blight has back home means a lot more to him than he wants the Capitol to know, Mags thinks) and he's also only playing at being a Capitolite, but he wears both rolls well.
"Our president thinks that we should just pick a time and swoop in, but she still agrees that the cooperation of many, if not all, of the districts is necessary. And those with a little more media savvy think that nothing can motivate across the various districts as something broadcast on television."
"The Games," Mags supposes.
"I think it's something that can't really be set up beforehand," Blight's fake boyfriend goes on, "But if it's right, it will speak to all sorts of people. We'll know it when we see it."
"Say what you said b-b-b-- earlier," Blight prompts him. "What it will b-be."
"What do you mean? That we're looking for a 'spark'?"