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sebenikelaWarnings: Violence, death, drugs, implied abuse and possible prostitution
Notes: So I read everything![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lorataprose has written about District Two and I got Lyme-feelings, and then she and xanify encouraged me to write things, so this happened. I think of it as one more brick in the "why Lyme turns" wall. Particularly inspired by Lorata's "Mirror Mirror" which will become obvious in a minute.
____________________________________________________
It's strange, watching the Games from a distance. Even when she's not mentoring Lyme usually watches most of the broadcast live, keeping track of tributes and strategies and making notes for next time. But this year Claudius still needs her around often enough that she has to make do with the recaps, assuming someone will tell her if she misses anything important.
There's nothing particularly interesting about the Reaping this year, thank Snow. She figured there wouldn't be, not after last year, but still, it never pays to take anything for granted. So as the broadcast continues through the middle districts she only has half an eye on the screen until District Six, Female is called to the stage. The girl's wearing jeans, worn but solid work boots, and she has the kind of build Lyme's learned is dangerous from outliers: too thin, small, but with the kind of muscles that come from the grind of hard, physical work rather than training. But it's her face that Lyme can't look away from. Dark hair, cut haphazardly short, and eyes narrowed, the kind of look that's moved through fear to anger and out the other side enough times already she's learned to skip the first two steps. The camera's searching for her parents in the crowd and comes up empty, commentators clucking over how irresponsible Sixes can be.
Despite herself, Lyme keeps an eye on the Six girl through the parade (where she looks ridiculous dressed in some train-conductor getup) and the interviews. Caesar asks the girl about her parents, why they couldn't make it to the Reaping, and she shrugs. "I never knew my dad, and my mom…she…works nights. She probably overslept." Her whole body is taut with the tension they spend years training out of Two tributes, and she lies badly. But she doesn't look scared, and when Caesar asks her what talents she'll bring to the arena, her smile has nothing sweet about it and she says, simply, "I've had a lot of practice staying alive." Lyme decides if the Twos don't take the crown this year (and after Claudius she'd be surprised if they do) she wouldn't mind seeing this girl walk out.
The arena is different this year, set in the ruins of some old city--or manufactured ruins maybe, who knows. The Six girl runs away from the Cornucopia, scales the side of a broken down building and hides out, moving regularly from hiding spot to hiding spot with a broken piece of rebar for a weapon.
It's when they do the interviews at the Final 8 that Lyme starts really paying attention. They track down the girl's mother and a so-called stepfather, both wearing long sleeves despite the heat to cover up what are sure to be track marks on their arms. Her two sisters are young, cowering against each other in badly-mended dresses and flinching when their father ruffles their hair or their mother pats their cheeks. The oldest, maybe 6, bites her lip and says she wants her sister to come home because she makes them nice breakfasts and keeps them safe. The parents talk about how responsible she is, always helping out, taking care of her sisters and keeping a job. They interview her uncle, who has a hard time pretending she's only working after school, and says he isn't surprised she's doing so well, she was always good at climbing around to fix the machines in the hovercraft factory, and she knows how to take care of herself walking home late in the sketchy parts of town.
The cameras flash back to the Arena, where she's sleeping in the corner of a ruined storeroom, hand on the knife she's stolen. The Four boy is slowly pushing the door open, and when it creaks, softly, she's awake and alert, knife in her hand and back to the wall, before the door's all the way open. She's frozen in place as he moves farther into the room, but she's watching his eyes and his hands to see what he'll do next. When he moves to throw his spear, she runs right at him, ducking under his arm and driving her knife up under his sternum. She steps back as he falls, moving back in to grab her knife and taking off, up the concrete steps to the roof, where she stops, watching the stairs in the moonlight. The look on her face is terror and adrenaline and a certain hard satisfaction that Lyme recognizes because that's how she felt right after her first kill test, finally able to strike back. And then it hits her hard in the chest and she has to look away because this girl is Madeline, Madeline without the Centre to help her become Lyme, thrown into the Arena without the years of training but with all the instincts that meant that Madeline woke up whenever Pa opened the front door, that made her fight mean at school, that sharpened her senses and tempered her anger so that she could survive until Residential. This girl never got Residential. She has two little sisters, too, and that's something Madeline wouldn't understand but Lyme does, because she could never run away if it meant leaving Claudius behind. This girl is trapped. But now she's down to the final four, and Lyme wonders if maybe even if she didn't have the Centre this kid can still use the Arena as her chance to get out.
And she does get out of the Arena, letting the One boy sneak up on her, catching him in a trap she's strung together out of electrical wire when he comes through the shattered doorway she's hiding behind. He's on the ground, feet tangled in copper wire, and before he can catch his breath she stomps on the wrist that held his sword and slits his throat.
But it's at the victory interview that Lyme realizes she's delusional to think the Games are an escape. Because they've obviously gotten the girl a different stylist, and they've woven extensions into her hair, tiny braids pulled away from her face and falling down her back. Her dress is the color of oiled steel and stops partway down her thighs, her legs descending into boots that lace to her knees. It's the first time Lyme realizes the girl is beautiful, because she definitely isn't pretty, her face is too sharp and her eyes too hard, but whatever stylist they've gotten for her knows just how to play that into an advertisement for the kind of dangerous sex that the pretty, polished One girls never offer. Lyme turns off the TV without watching the interview and storms over to Nero's and they spar, rough and desperate like they haven't since before she stole Claudius out of the Arena and Lyme doesn't feel better, not really, but she can at least go over to check on Claudius, who is recovering and needs her and who she can keep safe.
Notes: So I read everything
lorataprose has written about District Two and I got Lyme-feelings, and then she and xanify encouraged me to write things, so this happened. I think of it as one more brick in the "why Lyme turns" wall. Particularly inspired by Lorata's "Mirror Mirror" which will become obvious in a minute.____________________________________________________
It's strange, watching the Games from a distance. Even when she's not mentoring Lyme usually watches most of the broadcast live, keeping track of tributes and strategies and making notes for next time. But this year Claudius still needs her around often enough that she has to make do with the recaps, assuming someone will tell her if she misses anything important.
There's nothing particularly interesting about the Reaping this year, thank Snow. She figured there wouldn't be, not after last year, but still, it never pays to take anything for granted. So as the broadcast continues through the middle districts she only has half an eye on the screen until District Six, Female is called to the stage. The girl's wearing jeans, worn but solid work boots, and she has the kind of build Lyme's learned is dangerous from outliers: too thin, small, but with the kind of muscles that come from the grind of hard, physical work rather than training. But it's her face that Lyme can't look away from. Dark hair, cut haphazardly short, and eyes narrowed, the kind of look that's moved through fear to anger and out the other side enough times already she's learned to skip the first two steps. The camera's searching for her parents in the crowd and comes up empty, commentators clucking over how irresponsible Sixes can be.
Despite herself, Lyme keeps an eye on the Six girl through the parade (where she looks ridiculous dressed in some train-conductor getup) and the interviews. Caesar asks the girl about her parents, why they couldn't make it to the Reaping, and she shrugs. "I never knew my dad, and my mom…she…works nights. She probably overslept." Her whole body is taut with the tension they spend years training out of Two tributes, and she lies badly. But she doesn't look scared, and when Caesar asks her what talents she'll bring to the arena, her smile has nothing sweet about it and she says, simply, "I've had a lot of practice staying alive." Lyme decides if the Twos don't take the crown this year (and after Claudius she'd be surprised if they do) she wouldn't mind seeing this girl walk out.
The arena is different this year, set in the ruins of some old city--or manufactured ruins maybe, who knows. The Six girl runs away from the Cornucopia, scales the side of a broken down building and hides out, moving regularly from hiding spot to hiding spot with a broken piece of rebar for a weapon.
It's when they do the interviews at the Final 8 that Lyme starts really paying attention. They track down the girl's mother and a so-called stepfather, both wearing long sleeves despite the heat to cover up what are sure to be track marks on their arms. Her two sisters are young, cowering against each other in badly-mended dresses and flinching when their father ruffles their hair or their mother pats their cheeks. The oldest, maybe 6, bites her lip and says she wants her sister to come home because she makes them nice breakfasts and keeps them safe. The parents talk about how responsible she is, always helping out, taking care of her sisters and keeping a job. They interview her uncle, who has a hard time pretending she's only working after school, and says he isn't surprised she's doing so well, she was always good at climbing around to fix the machines in the hovercraft factory, and she knows how to take care of herself walking home late in the sketchy parts of town.
The cameras flash back to the Arena, where she's sleeping in the corner of a ruined storeroom, hand on the knife she's stolen. The Four boy is slowly pushing the door open, and when it creaks, softly, she's awake and alert, knife in her hand and back to the wall, before the door's all the way open. She's frozen in place as he moves farther into the room, but she's watching his eyes and his hands to see what he'll do next. When he moves to throw his spear, she runs right at him, ducking under his arm and driving her knife up under his sternum. She steps back as he falls, moving back in to grab her knife and taking off, up the concrete steps to the roof, where she stops, watching the stairs in the moonlight. The look on her face is terror and adrenaline and a certain hard satisfaction that Lyme recognizes because that's how she felt right after her first kill test, finally able to strike back. And then it hits her hard in the chest and she has to look away because this girl is Madeline, Madeline without the Centre to help her become Lyme, thrown into the Arena without the years of training but with all the instincts that meant that Madeline woke up whenever Pa opened the front door, that made her fight mean at school, that sharpened her senses and tempered her anger so that she could survive until Residential. This girl never got Residential. She has two little sisters, too, and that's something Madeline wouldn't understand but Lyme does, because she could never run away if it meant leaving Claudius behind. This girl is trapped. But now she's down to the final four, and Lyme wonders if maybe even if she didn't have the Centre this kid can still use the Arena as her chance to get out.
And she does get out of the Arena, letting the One boy sneak up on her, catching him in a trap she's strung together out of electrical wire when he comes through the shattered doorway she's hiding behind. He's on the ground, feet tangled in copper wire, and before he can catch his breath she stomps on the wrist that held his sword and slits his throat.
But it's at the victory interview that Lyme realizes she's delusional to think the Games are an escape. Because they've obviously gotten the girl a different stylist, and they've woven extensions into her hair, tiny braids pulled away from her face and falling down her back. Her dress is the color of oiled steel and stops partway down her thighs, her legs descending into boots that lace to her knees. It's the first time Lyme realizes the girl is beautiful, because she definitely isn't pretty, her face is too sharp and her eyes too hard, but whatever stylist they've gotten for her knows just how to play that into an advertisement for the kind of dangerous sex that the pretty, polished One girls never offer. Lyme turns off the TV without watching the interview and storms over to Nero's and they spar, rough and desperate like they haven't since before she stole Claudius out of the Arena and Lyme doesn't feel better, not really, but she can at least go over to check on Claudius, who is recovering and needs her and who she can keep safe.