#perfectaches

[fatefought]

where: ezra's room on district two level of the tribute center

who: thea ellis & ezra klair ( @perfectaches )

ezra is normally a deep sleeper. when he's out, he's out. he sleeps soundly for eight hours. some conditions are optimal. he prefers to sleep in the same bed as thea ellis. for someone who so desperately tries for control, she's a little spoon. sometimes it surprises him how vulnerable she can around ezra. it's a gift truly, one that he hopes to continue receiving. because in truth, thea does not owe that to him. even if he likes seeing those walls torn down.

sometimes she's in the capitol for weeks or months at a time. their bed feels too empty then. that's far too much space for one person. these capitol beds are like that. he'd seen kings before, but this was something bigger. and thea was so close for the past week, but embracing in any way was dangerous. he won't even see his better half in the morning. sleep does not readily grace him the night before the games. instead, ezra klair tosses and turns. should he make his way to her room ?

[subsiist]

Setting: Mentor's lounge, day three of the games With: Brutus & Thea @perfectaches

"Damn it, T, get off your fucking ass and take a fucking shower. You look like a damn morphling."

They're the first words out of Brutus' mouth when he barges into the Mentor's Lounge on the third morning of the Games. Even though he doesn't seem like it, he's in a fairly good mood. The blond kid from Twelve had been killed by Ezra last night and it's only a matter of time before the aunt is gone, too. Of course, he's not exactly happy about the way their tribute had let her go, but District Two was always good about playing to the crowd, so maybe it's just a game within a game or something.

He stands directly in front of her, blocking her view of the largest television in the room. Sure, she could just turn her head and catch a glimpse of the Games on any of the smaller ones, but the action is only to get her attention anyway.

Brutus stands solid, one hand on his hip, the other up as though to stop her from shouting at him even before she begins. "Is that what you wanna look like, hmm? Like you can't control your damn self? Get your shit together, pretty boy in there wouldn't want you to starve to death just because he is." He raised a brow. "Not that he's starving anyway, we've got all the food."

[seasaltsurvivor]

Closed starter | @perfectaches

It was nearing midnight and Finnick found himself the lone mentor in the control room, the blue light from the monitor before him casting shadows on his face. Half of the mentors would have already called it a night, and he supposed those who volunteered for nightshift for their district training team would be filtering into the room slowly over the next hour or so.

He was tired. The 68th Games had been brutal so far, and he really could use the break, but Mags deserved the rest more than he did. Besides, the more hours he worked, watching the District 4 tributes and facilitating sponsor deals, the less time he had to spend with clients.

Keeping up with his Capitol-made persona was a much more exhausting task than he had ever anticipated it being.

Growing up, Finnick knew that the Capitol cast their victors as a type, each role tailored to their attitude in the Games, how they had interacted with Caesar Flickerman in their interviews, what state mandated hobby they took up in their life after the arena. The image thrust upon him as a victor had come as a surprise, nonetheless.

He supposed it made sense when he really thought about it. Teen heartthrob was much easier to pull of than tragic little boy after the entirety of Panem had witnessed him brutally slaughter his opponents in the arena in the name of Capitol entertainment at just 15 years old, most of whom had been bigger and stronger than him. He knew, too, that his looks had gotten him plenty of attention both in the districts and here in the Capitol.

So he played the part without complaint — not that he had much of a choice. The interviews, the photoshoots, the invasion of privacy, the deal with Snow and his string of lovers. Finnick would grit his teeth and bear it.

He knew, however, that the character he played had awarded him something of a reputation, and not one that he was particularly fond of. But again, what was there to say? At just 21 he could not very well tell Snow and the rest of the Capitol to fuck off, not when he was so indebted to them.

All that in mind, it came as no surprise that many of the mentors kept him at arms length while the Games were in session, choosing to affiliate themselves with their peers who weren't associated with the same kind of drama.

The steady rhythm of footsteps approaching caught his attention. It was surely another mentor coming to take their place at their district station. Finnick turned in his seat to face the newcomer.

"Night shift?" Finnick asked with a welcoming nod. "Welcome to the party."

[angerend]

closed for: @perfectaches / hazelle hawthorne. location: the capitol, caesar flickerman's afterparty.

The image of bloodshed replays in Lavender's head, all knives and unfortunate death. You'd think the scene that unfolded tonight would bring a sense of misplaced triumph, the rebellion pulling off something so direct even at an event like this. But Lavender feels as though all they're doing is pointing a metaphorical finger. As if that's ever gotten anyone anywhere. We're pointing out the obvious, she remembers saying to her fellow rebels, what more could this do? Perhaps the broadcast will still ruffle some feathers, maybe now that much was certain after it's been done, but the party persists. People still clink their glasses and make faces at one another as makeshift endearment. And Lavender still feels angry, the memory of Mira brought back to the forefront of her mind after their successful display of anti-compliance. And maybe, in hindsight, her subtle distaste for the plan was made semi-selfishly. She couldn't think of Mira anymore. Not now, anyway, and all this did was bring the thought of her back to Lavender in the worst way.

That leads her here, on the balcony that she thought would be empty. No, she would never escape the likes of Capitol folk. No matter what, all of them and their pristine feathers, comfortable compliance, and riches will remain. When she turns her gaze away from the sky and spots Hazelle, her bad mood doesn't flinch. In fact, it sours, a certain kind of bitterness rising to the surface.

"Is that what you make of your fate?" Lavender asks, grabbing hors d'oeuvres from a passerby waitress holding food on a glimmering silver plate. Lavender shoves the whole thing in her mouth before speaking again, "Just another death on the screen?"

[unspcken]

a starter for @perfectaches ( for Thea )

Beautiful people ruled the world. It was often thought of that way. The people from the Capitol ate those who possessed it alive. She had witnessed first hand how her Finnick was submersed into it. Being dragged down into the depth by the President's claw until you felt there was no way to swim to shore. She knew such a fate wasn't only Finnick's to bear. It was easy to assume someone as beautiful as Thea was exposed to the same tragedy. But it was a sensitive subject. One that was not discussed, not even amongst victors. Besides, there was always this lingering question of who was trustworthy and who wasn't. Mags was kind, but careful.

Old fingers still managed to sew. Not to boost her own ego, but she always thought her own creations were better than whatever the stylists put the tributes in. But of course those outfits were not meant for flattery. It was meant to ridicule. At least that is how she thought of it.

Mags carefully opened the box. Inside was a comfortable dress, made from a dark shade of blue chiffon. It wasn't exactly for grand events, but would do well for a nice dinner with family ( which, in Mags' eyes, was the most important sort of ocassion ).

A smile stretched at her lips as her brows arched suggestively; implying that Thea should definitely try it on.

[celestia-snow]

❛ are you threatening me? ❜ for hazelle!

Celestia misspoke, said something about how Hazelle was so fit that she could do well in the arena again if she so chose. But coming from the granddaughter of the president, it sounded too heavy, too fraught with history. "No, no, no I would never." She blushes immensely, hiding her face in shame.

[incaensio]

eventide incorrect quotes + thezra ( @fatefought + @perfectaches )

[mxllitiam]

WHERE: Ceasar Flickerman's after-party CLOSED for @perfectaches

Gale looks as if he's seen a ghost. Or perhaps he looks like the ghost itself, his eyes sunken in, his usually tanned skin suddenly pale. There's a flute of something in his hand, a cup made from a glass so fine that it tinkled cutely when his nail hit against it. He can't remember ever seeing something like this. He can't remember ever being more disgusted.

The booming loudness is the first thing that registers when he walks in. He's more shoved than anything, brought over to this party by some Capitolite idiots who were in charge of giving the lottery winners the full experience. The full experience means enough color to make him dizzy and people retching in the bathroom. Gale has been struggling to play the game right. There's an understanding somewhere in his mind that he needs to play nice, he needs to keep his teeth from baring at any throat that passes in front of him because he might get something from this. He's waiting for the right opportunity, he's waiting for salvation, from somewhere. He can't risk being sent back to Twelve kicking and screaming and ruin any chance he has of saving his mother.

His eyes scout the place for her immediately and he bites back the panic rising up when he can't find her. Rationality seems to be slipping from his grip these days -- Snow would actually hate killing a tribute before a Game even starts. Still, he can't help the way he searches for her with quick feet and an increasing heartbeat.

He turns a corner, narrowly avoiding spilling his stupid drink -- which he hasn't yet dared take a sip of -- on someone, and then, relief. His mother is here, hiding up on a perfectly secluded corner, and he swallows down the emotion that threatens to spill out from his tongue. He should've known she would be somewhere like here; hiding sounds perfect. "Good spot," he chokes out the praise, voice restrained by the still increased pulse hammering on his chest. His arms cross, maybe in an attempt to hold himself together, and he leans his shoulder against hers. "Hey. This place is as fucking horrifying as I anticipated." A beat, and then it makes him think about how this is her new reality, too. He doesn't have any right to complain. He's being a child, which he regrettably always seems to be, around her. "I'm sorry," he murmurs around the lump in his throat, as if he hadn't said it a million times, once a minute, every bit of time they spend together now.

[dellcartwrights]

Location: District 13 medical ward, day 67 @perfectaches

Somehow it had been a week since the rescue mission rescued Peeta and the other captives, and yet it felt like a lifetime all while feeling like no time had passed at all. She had spent two months thinking about how the rescue would go and how incredible it would feel to have Peeta back to them.

But that wasn't what happened. She didn't recognize the Peeta that had been returned to them, and it scared her. For the first time, Delly truly understood the rebellion. They had killed her parents, but she still hadn't really understood it. Not until they returned Peeta. He wasn't even a shell of his former self and it scared her.

She wasn't going to give up on him, but it helped to keep busy and she arrived to the medical ward after dinner for a shift helping out. Delly spotted Thea Ellis, another one of the captives, and made her way over to her.

"Hi, Ms. Ellis. I'm Delly. I'm from District Twelve, but we're in Thirteen now. Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?"

[ceceliaknowsbest]

Location: Medical ward, day 66 @perfectaches

Cecelia had been released two days ago but the doctors in the medical ward insisted that she continue to check in with them every few days for the time being. She had agreed only because she couldn't stand to stay in the ward for much longer. She wanted to be with Sterling and her kids desperately, and being in the ward reminded her somewhat of the cell and the torture chamber she spent so much time in.

Well...much of Thirteen reminded her of that place but she was trying not to hyperfixate on that. That was the quickest way that she would end up back in the ward, she feared. And she didn't want to end up there again. She needed to be with her kids and Sterling. That would heal her more than anything.

After she got the all-clear from the doctor she made a beeline for Thea. Towards the end, she had been worried about her. Hell, Cecelia was still worried about her. But they were safe now. There had been a time when Cecelia had been intimidated by Thea, but now? She had nothing but respect for her. A bond had formed between the captives, a bond that Cecelia couldn't see being broken anytime soon.

She took the seat next to the woman, not wanting to wake her. She wasn't sure if it was a natural sleep or if the doctors had given her something, but Cecelia was grateful that Thea had made it through.

Cecelia had no idea how much time had passed when Thea's eyes opened. Cecelia tried to smile. "Hi," she greeted the other woman, her voice soft. She knew how much she hated loud noises now, she could only imagine Thea thought the same. "I'd ask you how you are but that would be pretty fucked up, huh?"

[fatefought]

@perfectaches sent: [ 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞 ] : receiver kisses sender who won't be back for a long time.

he went to the reaping in freshly pressed garments, like his parents always prompted him too. image was everything, even if they couldn't fathom why he molded himself into a second in command type rather than a leader. ezra klair knew his parents wanted nothing more than their son to be the designated volunteer, and at one point perhaps he did too. his name won't be broadcasted for all of panem to moon over. the male tribute is one who he grew up with, and there's worry there. however, he becomes a blot of the mind when a certain blonde is to be the second tribute.

we can run away, he tells thea ellis the day before. they walk home from the academy side by side, hand in hand. she all but scoffs. maybe she thinks it's just a silly thought. she'd been working all her life towards this, ezra knows. nobody is gonna keep her from her glory. she'll make sure of it.

thea looks like a starlet when she strides across that stage. no guest on caesar flickerman's has ever touch a candle to her, he swears. before a time of the hunger games, he doesn't know if anyone would have predicted she could be ruthless with or without weapon. her surname and district make it both known to all she will face. though it seems her first competition is those in this crowd. there's nothing serene in her eyes, instead they are like storms as she stares down at their peers. nobody objects ; nobody cares to.

the young man leads her on a detour. the heat of summer makes it less than favorable, but she isn't objecting. his father might become irritate as he returns home late ; that is a problem for later. somehow, he convinces her to stop by an old oak tree. actually, it's not surprising. he bet he could out climb her. and though ezra does, it's minimally. feet dangle as they remain many yards off the ground.

when both thea and their class peer are announced, the crowd is delighted. the atmosphere is electric. eyes remain hyper-focused on the pair ; ezra's only seek out her though. the hunger games show favor to the career districts. with the two on stage however ? it's district two's for the taking. the question is which will it be ? many scramble to meet with the tributes before their triumphant train ride to the capitol. ezra doesn't, not out of lack of desire to. he and thea said their goodbyes yesterday.

he doesn't realize how much time has past, nor does klair care at the moment. they remain next to each other. large, calloused hands seek out sculpted cheeks every so often. sometimes, they stroke lovingly at porcelain skin. others, ezra goes to cup her face and kiss her. it's second nature to have their lips against each other's. when they were younger, it felt so lighthearted. he always knew there would be more. butterflies in his stomach from his youth have been replaced with knots over the realization that this might be the last time he has with thea ellis.

i love you. she doesn't say it back ; she doesn't ever really. that's okay to him. i promise i'll be right there by the tracks when you get back from the capitol. he searches her features for an understanding that his words are sincere. there's no if in his words. no, they're just chosen carefully just like the softness in the final kiss he gives thea. he walks the rest of the way home with her before turning around to get back to his.

[vengefvlx]

When: Day 67

Where: Hospital Wing, District 13

Who: Thea and Cadence ( @perfectaches )

It had been hard since the return to 13. It felt like days had past but at the same time it felt like no time had past. Cadence had spent a lot of time sleeping, although not technically in her own bed. But she still found herself feeling exhausted. Her sleep was plagued with nightmares, of things she had seen, and by things that her brain was just imagining. It was too much. Cadie had felt like this once before, just over a year ago, and she had locked herself away, refusing to see anyone. She had said then she wouldn't do that again, realising that it had not been a healthy way of coping with her loss. But she'd done it again. All the hard work she'd done over the last year, letting more people in, and allowing herself to depend on people, had all been lost in those few hours in the Capitol.

The only time she had come out of her room was when she had tried to see Thea and Enobaria. There had been others she'd cared about, like Annie and Cecelia, but her District 2 family was her main priority right now. She had spent the 7 days since they'd gotten them backing asking Ezra when she could properly see them. She was sure she'd bored the older man by the amount of times she'd asked. But as she finally stood in the hospital wing, about to see her only living mentor, she was scared. She felt that she was the reason why Thea was even in the position, that if she'd been stronger, and not left her in the Capitol, that she'd have been okay. Cadence felt like she might be able to manage that guilt, but she was scared Thea was going to blame her. Cadie knew she couldn't cope with losing both Thea and Brutus.

She pushed the door open to the room, letting it swing closed behind her. She had intended on going straight to Thea's side, like she had wanted to do the moment they brought her to 13. But seeing her strapped to the bed was too much. It was a wonder the victor didn't instantly start crying, because that was exactly what she felt like doing.

"Thea...." She honestly did not know what to think, what to say. The only thought going through her head was that this was all her fault. "I'm sorry."

[seasaltsurvivor]

what do they consider their worst habit?

Answers | @perfectaches

It's no secret that Finnick's first line of defence from any kind of emotional discomfort is deflection. He uses humor or his charisma to avoid talking about things seriously, and unless he's really close with the person, he's going to just dance around the topic.

The problem is that Finnick doesn't want to be like this, but it's a reflex at this point. He has only managed to make it as far as he has by being guarded and overly cautious. He can't risk spilling any kind of personal information because there has always been the very real possibility it could be used against him, and he refuses to let that happen.

So now, even though he's safe in 13 and away from the clutches of Snow and the Capitol, Finnick finds it difficult to let his guard down and be open about how he feels. He knows it makes him come off as arrogant and dismissive, which is far from who he really is.

[eventiderpg]

Connection For: Thea Ellis Relationship: Friend/potentially more & male tribute for District 2 Canon or OC: OC Age Range: 47-51 Home: District 2 Faceclaim Suggestions: Pedro Pascal, Daniel Henney, Jon Bernthal, Idris Elba, Joaquin Phoenix, Cole Hauser, Brian Tee, Shemar Moore, Keanu Reeves, Danny Pino, Daniel Dae Kim, Henry Simmons, Taika Waititi, Santiago Cabrera, Jason Momoa, UTP (anyone masc presenting in age range!) Please Contact: @perfectaches

Description: Basically, it's just my headcanon that these two grew up together in the Career Academy but, while undeniably strong, this character didn't really display the traits of a cold blooded killer that would've put him in the running to enter the Games, and instead he had a more cheerful and kind and gentle disposition. Thea on the other hand was ruthless and cold, but despite that an unlikely friendship blossomed between the two of them (though Thea probably didn't admit they were friends for a good while LMAO). From there, we can definitely plot it out, but I definitely would like for them to have remained friends all these years and for him to have helped Thea through her trauma.

I'd love for this character to be involved in the rebellion, which would essentially be the reason he volunteered to enter the Games this year (much to Thea's surprise bc we love that angst.) How, why, and for how long he's been involved is totally up to you! We can flesh that out as well if you'd like my input on it. Status: Taken

[calofhearting]

Setting: outside on the streets of the Capitol, near the tribute center @perfectaches

Calista didn't know if she was supposed to be there, but if someone stopped her she would just say she got lost. She didn't need to go inside, hell she didn't want to, she just...wanted to see the place where her brother had spent his last days before the arena. She didn't know what she was hoping to find there, and she didn't know if it would give her any closure, but...she just felt called to be there.

It wasn't difficult to find, and the building looked so tall and intimidating. Calista couldn't imagine what it would be like as a tribute, seeing this place. What was it like inside? What had Cato been thinking those final days? Had he spent the time with Clove? Had any of them known about their relationship? She wished she could ask him those things. She wished that she could talk to him one last time.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a familiar figure. Thea Ellis. She had been a mentor, although...Calista didn't know if she had been Cato's mentor. They had never really spoken, and honestly, Calista was a little bit intimidated by her, but something told her to go over there.

"Ms. Ellis? Are...are you okay?" Calista asked ."I'm um, Calista Hearting."

[celestia-snow]

❛ you look like you just saw a ghost. ❜ for thea!

Celestia had just come out of watching a re-run of the games, the moment before Rue was brutually killed she turned away and swore for a second she saw a beautiful young girl across the hall who looked just like her. But when the mentor called out to her, she blinked and the girl was gone. "I-I'm sorry, I just get so emotional for that girl..." She admits before shaking her head. "I'm sorry what were you saying?"