facefox

[facefox]

All of this will be over soon. That's what she keeps on telling herself, all of this will be over soon, and she'll either be back home in one piece at the end of it, or ... or else she won't be in a state where she's able to care about what's happened to her. Grim, maybe so, but she's always been a smart girl. Pragmatic, rational. Even when her name was plucked from the reaping bowl, there were no tears, no wobbling bottom lip, no histronics. Not from her, anyway. Her sister was in an awful state when she had passed by, but she made a point of staring straight ahead, a stoic little fourteen year old standing tall up on the stage.  (Maybe you'll be back home in time for your birthday, her mother had tearfully whispered, though Nicola doubts anyone who heard happened to believe it.)

.She lets a beat pass before volleying "What they want is to watch us kill each other," right back at her mentor, brow lifting almost to her hairline itself. It takes everything in her not to scowl at the toying with her hair, an empty gesture, something only her mother has ever done before, and even that was years ago –– long before her father ever passed. "They want to get to know us the same way we want to go into this arena." That being, not at all.

i'm not sure i believe you. i'm not sure it even matters. ... @facefox

it didn't. and it did. in a world ruled as much by brutality as it was narrative, there was only as much power in words as to what that person could manage. her advice was as good as gold in the right ear, and little more than wasted sound in another — which the fox-faced girl might prove to be was yet to be determined.

cherise liked nicola, in all the few ways she permitted of a tribute. it was all a game, after all. the girl, simply a piece to be maneuvered. no use allotting any deeper an attachment. or so she silently, nightly, assured herself.

"of course people will want to know you," cherise speaks to the girl's reflection, busying her hands in the her coppery hair — this, at least, she needn't fight their stylist to showcase. and what they could not derive from interviews, from observation, from the accounts of others, they, the illustrious will of the capitol, would invent it. stories to enchant, to inspire terror, to anger ; willing or not, there would be a role for her if she lived played long enough.

in a gesture that fell somewhere between maternal affection and some playacted impression of it, she tucks an errant strand behind her ear. smiles. "they'll want to like you."

[facefox]

AGAIN???

mind ur own business x

[facefox]

it's a pity that i cannot let f.xface win her games without altering the plot of the series so drastically and dramatically and kind. of ruining the overall plot at that. but will that stop me from creating an au where that's exactly what i do? no, no it will not

[facefox]

too clever for her own good,  an independent writing blog for foxface from suzanne collins' the hunger games. both book and film based. mutuals only, low activity. as written by meg, 23.

[facefox]

[facefox]

––––  I BELIEVE THAT NO WEAPON CAN MATCH A BRAIN.

an independent, selective, and private writing blog for nicola 'foxface' finchey from the hunger games.  takes inspiration from both the books and the films.  written by meg (23, she/they, gmt).  established 14 august '24.

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