#넷 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 / interactions.

[uroborosymphony]

Acting was never one of her known qualities. Before her games, the 55th, managing her image happened to be one of the most challenging part for her mentor. Devora was barely seventeen, living for the kill, elevated to the pedestal of the sanguine deity she was. How do we make you more... Relatable? More... human? Would question her mentor, question to which the young tribute had no answer to. Years have passed as she understood the likes and tricks of a stage like the Capitol a little more - even if her fires were still burning inside, Devora had learned to control them as she became an important, political figure. Human, she became that too. The reason behind her humanity was standing at the other side of this room of nightmares. Right this instant, in this celebration, every single fiber of her body was begging to crawl out of her skin and seize the blade that was hidden by her ankle to slice the throat of every single attendee of this goddamn venue. The love of her life was submitted to the wills of the guests, serving, playing waitress and slave while Devora was the one picking up hors d'oeuvre out of the avox's tray. Snow's most powerful mental game on her : the man knew too it was the only way he could have a full control on the powerful, quite menacing figure Devora became. If anything, it was the perfect situation to him : who knew what she would be capable of if she ever decided to rebel, to reverse the power, to betray her own camp - this way, Snow was keeping her right into the palm of his hand, just like everyone else. And in silence Devora watches the female avox walk away, enable to catch her by the arm, enable to apologize a thousand times, to kiss her, to leave everything behind, and run away with her. A torture. A prison. Patrick's presence suddenly calls her back as her eyes meet his. Devora has to focus, they are currently in a circle of attendees, watching her, eager to hear her thoughts on a matter she did not even care about. "Say the word, I put an end to it." Devora whispers in between her greeting teeth only for him to hear as he takes her closer. A mechanic smile raises on her lips again as she accepts the polite kiss on her head : it is all part of the act. No matter how difficult the performance could be, it somehow was reassuring as well. Devora was convinced that as long as she was playing the part of the perfect Capitol couple they were, the less eyes would notice her secret affair, how tense she happened to be around the female avox. "I was hopping you would ask. A little time together is exactly what I need right now, Darling." Devora then replies, with staged enthusiasm in her voice. "Will you please excuse us." Devora adresses to the circle around them, who naturally responded to a charming smile to the charming couple, who immediatly walked to the outside.

"Thank you for that. I was starting to lose my goddamn mind in there." Devora speaks on her regular tone, jaded, done and pressed, once they were free of all company. The gardens of the venue looked, as the rest of the Capitol, completely out of proportions, all over the top. In a way, even the outdoors in this golden hell were overwhelming, as if the air was impossible to breathe. Devora always was wearing extravagant attires to suite her image as a public figure, one that was shaped this wa : of elegant black and golden long gowns, like a royal. Her fingers were wrapping around her collar, pulling onto it in a sharp move, as if it became hard to breath in this one, pacing from left to right, putting a little bit of distance with Patrick. Her breathing pace was escalating while she was focusing not to completely lose it - out of anger, madness - not here, not today, not ever. It probably was the first time she would display such a version of herself to him - or to anyone - because there was only one situation that could make her lose her legendary composure : this one. "I have to tell you something. Someone I did not think I ever would tell anybody. I simply cannot take it anymore. I'm going to stab someone in the goddamn face if I have to go back in there-." She places the palms of her hands down the fountain, her head down, shoulders as well, breathing and out like an animal in rage.

"I'm with someone." Devora simply stated. It was the first time she ever shared this secret. She did know nobody could be trusted in the Capitol, nobody but herself. And well, Patrick, after all. She could trust him with her life. "She is in that room, right fucking now. Right under my eyes, so close to me - and I'm not allowed to talk to her, I'm not allowed to touched her, I'm not allowed to maintain eye contact with her more than thirty seconds. It's part of the contract" She's shaking her head, that slow shake from the head, out of displeasure, out of frustration. "God it's driving me crazy." Her tone isn't flat, how unusual for Devora. It it filled with frustration, and with an extreme sadness. "Her name is Aeri." The leader then adds, pronouncing her name with delicacy, a name only her has on her tongue as none of these Capitol assholes would treat her beloeved any differently than a slave. Straightening up, looking to the side, as if pensive. "She is being punished for a mistake I have committed years ago, Patrick. She's ... " She swallows hard; her features twisting into disgust. "She is being treated like a slave. Forced to serve us. Forced to pick up the crumbs of these self sufficient assholes who has NO respect for her whatsover. They don't even KNOW her name. FUCK-" She exclaims, the last word blurred out as this time, her eyes connect with his, eyes filled with blood, a crave for revenge, a crave to set this entire masquerage on fire once in for all, and pain.

"It's killing me."

[uroborosymphony]

POST - IT NOTE ( for patrick & deva 🥺 )

"Snow has requested a time with me, outside of the Capitol. Him and I, only. This is new. I will come back to my quarters by the time of 8:00pm sharp. If you do not hear from me past this time. Do not try to look for me. Disappear."

[uroborosymphony]

POST - IT NOTE ( for devari ❤️ )

"My Everything. Are you getting enough sleep? Are you eating enough? I found a little peace since Hrodvitnir and I came to this agreement, to keep you safe whenever able to. While I do not fully trust him, he gave me the guarantee you are free of your actions for at least the time he has you under his roof. I choose to have faith along with the fact he does know if anything happens to you under his watch, I will rip his throat out with my bare hands. I promise to find a way to visit you my Love when you stay at his home, I first have to secure a way for no one from the council to suspect a thing. Give me ten days, then I will finally be able to touch you again. The softness of your hair in between my fingers, the weight of your head down my chest, your nose in the cook of my neck, your scent all over my skin. I miss you terribly. While waiting for me I want you to use this little time of peace to create again, my Beloved. I finally unpacked your boxes back at home. I hate that place, because you're not there. But I had to. I found your pencils, your colors, your sketchbooks to send them all to you. You have a gift my Princess, my Queen, do not let the monsters of this corrupted hell steal that away from you. You will show me your new creations when you are done, yes? I still hear your voice whispering my name. No matter what I will always hear and listen to it, your voice. I love adore and worship you. Devora."

   Note left by Deva on a package delivered to Van's place for the hours Aeri is allowed to stay there.

[uroborosymphony]

In the year following the 65th games, the year of Deva and Aeri's 26th birthdays, on the celebration of the National Day of Panem.

There is an amused smile on Deva's lips, the type that doesn't leave as she keeps on listening to Aeri's not-so-good attempt of hiding how much she despises the stylists work. "Damn you're so cute when you hate on my outfits." Deva speaks with an amused tone and half smirkish playful expression on, one hand reaching out for Aeri's to pull her a little closer. "I bet my life you were arguing the hell out of them all before I come in. And that's really hot. That's my girl." Deva then says, of course teasing yet meaning all of it. Aeri is overly invested when it comes to Deva's public appearances' outfits and well, the victor finds it quite endearing - the heiress has always been the fashionable of the two, while Deva, if she could, would only wear black in a lady suit and call it a day. "I hate it too. I look like a freaking shower curtain with swarovski on it." But more than Aeri's passion for the fashion, it's her presence that Deva values the most. For every single key moments of the leader's career, Aeri has been by her side. "I have a bad feeling about this." The leader adds in a whisper as she moves closer to Aeri, naturally looking to the side as if walls had ears, before connecting her gaze back to her lover's again. The leader isn't always comfortable in her role, despite what the Capitol believes, that she is made for it. Deva was never a political figure to begin with - not yet at least - she was born a fighter, a soldier. Along with Patrick, it was her first appearance by Snow's side for his yearly National Day speech. One day of celebration accross Panem to remind the citizens of the strengh of the Nation and the power of the Capitol. Such an invite was a privilege for Patrick and Deva - something the former victors could not earn : to get involved, to appear so close to Snow, to get political. It meant more weight and importance for their cause, an upgraded status from brainless trophies. Deva should be proud yet her skepticism was stronger. "My presence behind him signs my approval to his sayings, to his decisions, to his philosophy, no matter what comes out of his mouth. Today is just National's day speech, what happens when it's something... different." Deva confides, perfectly knowing this new shiny status of hers come with a deeper meaning : the more years were passing, the more her image, opinions, mind, were not only belonging to Panem and to the Capitol but to Snow himself. "When this is all over, I promise to come and celebrate National Day with you and your family, as planned. For that I will wear something that's a little more... mm, me." Deva speaks, back on a lighter tone, her fingers traveling through Aeri's strands of hair, her fingertips adoring the skin of her temples. If the victor is known for her almost-offensive cold features and detached demaneors, these eyes were only for Aeri. "Is it still happening?" She questions in a whisper, aware of the climate in the Kang's home. Well, her parents were fond of Deva yet perhaps... a little too much sometimes - the leader could almost predict all Aeri's mother would talk about would be Deva's appearance on television. "If you don't want to, that's okay too." She speaks with a warm smile, cupping Aeri's jawline, pulling her face closer to hers. "I can take you to Gino's and we can celebrate just the two of us, how about that?"

[uroborosymphony]

"I can't be like you," María says and she reels herself back in last second just in time enough to avoid making it sound like she's snapping. In the end it fades into something more petulant than anything else, which has María grimace at herself and then stare up at Deva again. "You're, like... I'm not level-headed like you. Maybe I don't want to be. Don't you want to... act sometimes?" ((hyello~ >:3))

In the year following the 74th games, victors Cesare Rosales & María Castro ; a year of agitation in Panem as the social crisis, trials and executions rise, a year before the Quarter Quell.

Deva's eyes land on Maria from across the room. To each one of the younger one's words, the leader listens carefully. She understands. She understands it all. The rage. The anger. This unadmitted need to just burn it all to the ground. To Maria's last words however, Deva's sharp eyes bend into a glare, narrowing. Slowly, she crushes her cigarette down the ashtray on her desk. Does she Act sometimes? "Watch it." Speaks the leader, her eyes on the smoke escaping from the incandescent stick. "I know you are angry right now but do Not disrespect me." Eyes now up, back on Maria. There is something naturally authoritarian in Deva's tone, demeanors, and ways - and so, even though she does not raise her voice, it is harsh, like a razor made of ice. Truth is : Deva too is angry, not at Maria no, at the ongoing situation in Panem. A group of young ones from District 8 have been arrested in the night - it was a confidential matter only the Heads of the Capitol and Snow's private Militia were aware of. Maria only got the information by overstepping. The arrested ones were up to the number of 10 : 6 boys and 4 girls from the lower social statuses aged from 18 to 23, accused of conspiracy against the Capitol, now threatened of being executed. It wasn't anything new in Panem, however a matter that seems to happen more and more frequently these days - something the Capitol wanted to hide at all cost, was it the beginning of another social crisis? To kill the opposition against the power is typical of any dictatorial political system - and here is standing Maria, almost accusing Deva to be part of it by not standing up against it. The regal stands up from her leather chair, in her usual colors - a lady suit, the blazer taken off, her white shirt first buttons already undone, the pants are black and golden by the belt. "I've been at this game for twenty years, you weren't even born. Life wasn't always so Pretty for the victors. Yes, the luxury remains unchanged but their rights was jack shit. Shiny slaves, exploited puppets, suicidal addicts - that's what the victors were. I'm not saying the Capitol doesn't hold us in the palm of its dirty hand still but trust me, not as much. Path and progress was made, our voice now matters and trust was earned. How do I know that? Because Patrick and I took the goddamn hits and we did everything we could to get us this safety, this status, hell, we even get a chair and vote at Snow's table. Do you know how game changer that is? Without all that, you would be under curfew, unauthoriazed to travel back to your district or locked in a room, interrogated, suspected of collaborating with those kids by simply frowning." Indeed, the arrested ones were from the same district as Maria, perhaps another reason the young girl was so angry. Deva walks around the desk and finally reaches Maria's position at the other side of it. They stand one in front of the other now. Even though it's almost uncatchable, there is tenderness when Deva looks at Maria, there is care, there is worry. And deep down, she admires the young one's strength and unapologetic rage. Sadly, the world there are living in is not made for it. "I can't be like you either." The leader speaks on almost a nostalgic tone now. Remembering pieces of her own youth. "I once was... Just once. And it felt good, so damn good. But it made me lose everything"

Aeri.

"It costs me to play by the rules too, I was not made this way, but to follow the book has its perks as well. I know you want to slice their heads off and piss on their graves. There are so many graves I wish I could piss on. too" Deva speaks, a side smallish smile drawn - not a smile of fun but a smile of reassurance as her hands reach out of Maria's, holding them, tight. "If you truly want to help them, you can. You got cards in your hands, you have to play them right. But not by acting up, not by sending yourself to prison by their sides, understood? Cautious. You have to trust me on this."

[uroborosymphony]

In the year following the 67th games, the 68th are coming ; among the high spheres of the Capitol a celebration of wealth as more and more money is being gathered for the games.

Her attire is made of black and white, as her long dark of her hair cascades down the straightness of her back. Head and spine, high. Slowly, she gives a head turn, her cold gaze resting on the man entering her peripheral. The leader is difficult to approach indeed, mostly due to the perimeter around her that is one impossible to penetrate ; constantly, the woman is surrounded by her court, one Patrick was usually part of, along with her assistant, ancient victors and friends, important figures of the Capitol who never leave her tail. The man then chose the perfect timing, intercepting her as she freshly excused herself out of a conversation, simply to catch another at the other side of the room. "I believe we haven't." Devora answers, not raising her chambre flute in return just yet, however, stopping her pace, standing in front of him as well. The leader never eyes someone from head to toe to get a first impression, her piercing eyes connect with his, it's enough, an eye contact she never breaks. Devora being a political figure, invested in her position among the Capitol, is never reluctant to engage, converse, exchange - as long as the said engagement is of no shallow natures, such as with these Capitol ladies wearing gigantic hats obsessed with the idea of networking with her, she would not even pretend to be remotely insterested in discussing with them."Your presence at such an event however indicates we could have met in the past. The guest list here is quite selective." Indeed, even among the elite of the Capitol Citizens, this one particular event, to discuss and celebrate the financement of the upcoming games, was pretty private, which indicates to her the man might hold a position or interest in related businesses and matters. "Not joshing around with your peers however, I see." Speaks Devora, a simple way to let him know she has noticed, he is not necessarily mixing with the crowd. The man appears discreet. Which is either a quality or something to keep an eye on. "You do know my name." Everyone does. "Isn't it only fair you give me yours?"