#primvlas

[fatefought]

@primvlas

president snow has learned a lot about primrose everdeen in the last nine months. prior, she was as anonymous as a leaf on an old oak tree. one of many and entirely insignificant. her older sister played a heavy hand in his new knowledge of primrose. it was truly a grave error on katniss, readily showing her great adoration for her sibling while simultaneously defying the very government that provided care and aid to her. though coriolanus intends to retire from the reception soon, he will not do so without formally introducing himself to the unintentional catalyst of the brewing uprisings.

" there's such a beauty in weddings. families multiply rather than divide. peeta mellark must be such a welcomed addition to your family. " he states, finding prim in his rose garden. the reception is only fifteen yards away ; the volume and enthused aura wafts over easily. " forgive me, we haven't had the chance to meet yet. i'm coriolanus snow, and it's an honor to meet you. i don't know if you're aware, but you have caused quite the stir in the capitol. " the last part is accentuated with a cheery chuckle.

[snowfuls]

( pre - plot drop ) caesar flickerman's afterparty with @primvlas .

new faces are always a welcome sight. a salve against the same narrow people and mindless chatter. and this new face is especially hard to miss, even amongst the crowd of colourful partygoers, each in their own visually loud ensemble. not for the reason a capitolite might think when looking upon somebody from an outlier district either. she's no weed amongst the roses after all... she's the newest of capitol darlings. hers is the very face that had (unknowingly) set this all in motion and cora feels herself drawn to the younger everdeen for that reason in particular. an earnest smile tugging at the corners of painted lips upon approach, ❛ primrose everdeen... hi. ❜

the elder girl suspects primrose of being a far cry from the sort of girls she attends the academy with. not nearly as preoccupied with vanity as students belonging to sweeping cosmetics empires are but every girl deserved to feel beautiful and be told as such. at least cora liked to think so. an admiring wave of her free hand accompanying warm words, ❛ i thought it'd be remiss of me if i didn't come and tell you how lovely you look this evening. is that a cinna creation you're wearing? ❜ her grandfather's souring opinion on the designer in the months following the seventy fourth games was something of an open secret amongst mansion staff. one that hadn't gone unnoticed by cora. she'd certainly never be allowed to wear something as... cutting-edge as what cinna's often seen adorning his district twelve team in but surely, there was no harm in admiring their work? ❛ you know, i wouldn't be at all surprised if you made magdalena's best dressed list tomorrow morning. your sister too, no doubt. ❜

[incaensio]

around twelve years ago. mentioned : baby @primvlas

it’s primrose’s ninth birthday. it’s also a sunday, which means heath is not at the mines, and katniss feels his hands tickling her sides to wake her up — he mumbles that she can not laugh too loudly not to awake prim too, which is ridiculous because he, too, is giggling, the corners of his eyes creaking as he does so. but katniss is an obedient girl, and she slips out of bed with the softest movements, barely making prim stir. father and daughter smile at each other, and katniss stretches out to offer her cheek to her mother as lilian kisses her goodbye, muttering her stay safe, as always.

the sun is barely awake. the sky is still grey, and katniss yawns all the way to the district limits; you need to be real quiet, baby. she obeys, of course. the skies remain grey, permanently stained with coal dust, but it brightens out in shades of blue and yellow as they walk across the woods; her bag is heavier at each step, and when it feels there are no more squirrels in the path, heath always finds one more. they switch out bags on the way back — he carries the squirrels, and she carries the smaller bag with berries. she sneaks one into her mouth — because she hasn’t had breakfast yet — now and then, but her father takes her hand as they go into town, and she becomes distracted by the cheerful tune he is singing.

the baker is out of the door before they reach his backyard. “i much prefer this song,” he says, and there are less squirrels in their bag once they leave town, but those have been replaced by bread. the baker gives her a cookie — she sees her father’s brow begin to furrow, but the baker shakes his head, and tells them to go — and katniss gives him a nod and a ‘thank you’, tugging on her father’s hand (the baker is nice, but his wife is terrifying. she’s a witch! katniss tells heath, and her father’s laughter blooms).

prim gets the full cookie. they sing the birthday song in bed, the four of them, and katniss has to stop herself from climbing in and sleeping because she’s tired, but it’s sunday, and the sun is fully out, and it’s warm and heath says there’s more to do outside (and he spends enough of the week trapped in his own tomb). so they go to the meadow — mother’s meadow, the one before the fence; she doesn’t like the woods, she gets that terrified look on her face when dad takes too long to come back — and have a picnic. there are wild turkey’s sandwiches, and honey and raspberry jam, and dad says they need to make flower crowns for the birthday girl. the girls go to collect flowers — there are so many of them here — and they fill katniss’ small bag with blossoms of red, purple, blues, pinks, whites and yellows.

they sit together, weaving the crowns of primroses for prim. their parents are playing with the flowers too — lilian’s head is on heath’s lap, his roughened fingers putting small flowers on her hair. they smile so much they almost don’t look old, hardened by the seam and the mines and poverty.

katniss is lying on the grass when he begins singing. at once, she is one of the mockingjays, falling silent to marvel at him; her eyes begin to droop, and she falls asleep, smile big upon her lips.

she dreams of this — the meadow, the four of them, eating well and picking flowers.

she’s happy.

[eventiderpg]

DUE TO NOT POSTING within those 24 hours without contacting the main, please unfollow:

@primvlas

[ambroslal]

setting : the creeds' mansion, some time before the quarter quell. with : tacita creed @primvlas

mother kisses her twice, and old creed once. he is grinning, which is not an odd sight these days — he's always talking about his child, his little golden child, how well she's doing, how she's graduating, how she's under heavensbee's wings now. domitila has heard it all, and she does so again, with a smile that could be a sneering one, if any of them had sensible eyes. thankfully, they don't, or else her relationship with her stepfather would be more rotten, and domitila doesn't want to get on the creed's bad side (deep down, she knows if she displeased the man, her mother wouldn't lift a finger to help her; her protection towards domitila had ended the moment the other child crawled their way out of her womb, glittering in blood and afterbirth). by the end of the short encounter, domitila has had her coat taken off her shoulders and a glass of drink in her hand, but she's not the star guest tonight, so mother scrambles off to check the meal and old creed sits on his seat and she doesn't feel like humoring him just yet.

the house has been under renovations several times since she's moved out, those twenty years back, but domitila floats about with familiarity, tracing the little trees in the walls now and then — the creed are proud of their connection to seven, how they owned most of that back in the day, as grandfather creed would say with that look old people get when they wander back to happier days — until she turns a corner and almost bumps straight upon her sister. half-sister, of course. within these fine walls, domitila isn't as shiny as the golden child. "taci, good evening." there's no lingering bitterness in her smile, or in her gaze. the kid was pleasant enough, and well, she's a kid. it's difficult to be too hard on them. "are you old enough to drink?" there is a small beat as domitila squints her eyes a little, trying to recognize that. in the end, she gives tacita the cup anyways. "oh, well, you must be. you're graduated now, yes? and you can't properly graduate university without spending many bohemian nights at nero's pub." professors didn't even wink when the students were so hangover at early morning classes, in her time.

[incaensio]

@primvlas

[seyferta]

ROSA FRAGRANS, PRIMVLA VERNALIS SERVOS TVOS LIBERA A MALIS TV GLORIÆ SPECVLVM, SOLIS VMBRACVLVM DA FAMVLIS GAVDIVM POST HOC EXSILIVM

sweet-smelling rose, the very first of spring deliver your servants from evil you, reflector of glory, receptacle of the sun grant your subjects joy after this exile

[floatign]

@morningstardreamcatchers @shadcws1 @cordiecrisfield @cabernetclub @uskoa @kleasuresome110 @akihitotakuma @itsdavincii @bistressual @elcrepusculodelosidolos @nulsia @foovalenciaux @primvla @curdledbl00d @nicospat-blog @grimetears @aestheticamnesiac @awearc @centifolias @showgore 

thanks

[fatefought]

@primvlas

the fire had spread to four. the popularity of mr. & mrs. mellark was ablaze in a district that had notorious odds for winning the games. though their numbers were lower than one and two, it certainly wasn't uncommon. ( she shouldn't have survived, but the rest of the lot deserved it. ) the faces of katniss and peeta as well as their loved ones regularly lit up their screens. so even if she hadn't ever met primrose, annie recognized her.

she wouldn't have approached had prim been in the presence of company. it's reminiscent of just a few days ago when annie introduced herself to the older everdeen sister at the presidential gala. she thinks about the healers' garden that grows at the everdeen residence. she doesn't know katniss well, but she senses that she surrounds herself with good people.

" is this your first time at the museum ? " annie asks curiously. she'd been three times, the first being a few days before her time in the arena. caesar flickerman really spent a fortune redecorating while also leaving all pro-capitol memorabilia on display ... charming. nevertheless, there's something sinister about a man who can smile in the faces of lambs heading to the slaughter. " i've been a few times, but they rarely add any new exhibits. "

[fatefought]

buttercup, he's not sure what that means. but the curiosity dies almost as quickly as the word leaves the young woman from district twelve. off first glance, the two everdeen sisters are quite different. on appearance, that much is obvious. no, his focus is on demeanor. katniss is brash, bold, and incredibly introspective. though she's done better at hiding it, much by the push of his own hand, the cover is translucent enough. her younger sister seems unassuming, unruffled, and serene. it feels out of place for the dull district from which she hails. primrose's aura feels considerably more capitol, and reminds him of his granddaughter when she was younger. shame a flame is too near her.

his smile is cheery as he speaks. it seems the younger everdeen is considerably more well-mannered as well. " it's still the polite thing to do, miss everdeen. but of course, i know who you are as well. " his tone is pleasant but there's a layer that's patronizing. it's more prominent when he speaks to those from the districts. " many tributes with siblings have been reaped. it's not often that they get volunteered for, even less in district twelve. many in the capitol have agreed that you must be something special. though i for one know that there are few bonds stronger than family. " those bonds are strong, but they're also disposable. it's best to keep an eye out for oneself, nobody else truly will.

dress shoes echo on the garden pathway as he makes his way over to the bushes. it's one of his prized accomplishments: this vast rose garden. he enjoyed white roses, clean and sophisticated. there's beauty in the loveliness of the petals and the harshness that extends from the plant's stem. " do you like the roses ? i tend to them myself. "

primrose likes pretty things. the way dresses flow when they're not made of old linen, the way glitter shines when the light hits just right and how a wedding cake can become a drawing come to life with how perfect it seems. how beautiful her sister looks, even if it's nothing but one big theatre piece. maybe it is truly her taste or maybe it is just because it's so different from all that she's experienced, seen only through an old tv set while the capitol wore its finest things. maybe that's why she's drawn to the roses as she finds herself looking for a reprieve from the capitol's celebration.

despite how it is all staged ( prim can hardly blame either of them, a matter of survival that she's never had to experience all thanks to her sister ), it still feels like too much if gone for too long. a familiar voice, yet quite distant sounding even when it booms from so close, reaches her ears. eyes still remain on the rose that she dares touch with her fingertip, treating it as a wound that she must care for ⸻ a light, soft and steady touch as if she's afraid the petal might break. "he is. even buttercup likes him." a fact that becomes null if one doesn't really know who buttercup is.

primrose turns around and it's only then she realises why she felt like she had heard the voice before ( televised, echoing like grandeur made flesh, terrifying too, in its own way ). "i know who you are, sir. it's impossible not to." primrose straightens up and she has to stop herself from fixing a nonexistent tail. an honour, he calls it. how does one react to president snow saying that? "i'm prim." of course, he must know that. "i have?" his words cause a small furrow of her eyebrows. "i don't know how i could." after all, she is the sister that got spared from the games not the one that was braver than primrose could ever be.

[fatefought]

@primvlas

haymitch had hovered around this table of hors d'oeuvres for the last hour or so, picking at things randomly. in terms of the twelve team, he had only spoken to chandler and effie post-interviews. the former was delighted with his score, even if haymitch found it nothing special. though he did attempt to find hazelle to speak with her, she's nowhere to be seen ; meanwhile, he had actively avoided the two, fresh mentors. ( selfishly, he's not in the headspace to help them process this, yet. )

this does not hinder a friendly smile spreading across his face at the sight of the younger everdeen. she's his favorite of her family. the competition isn't stiff. lilian and him don't always see eye to eye, more often do to himself. as for katniss ? they reflect on one another. and to be frank, it feels eerie at times seeing himself. nevertheless, the smile is complimented with slightly flushed cheeks. it seems that whenever his flute is empty, a new one instantly appears. without a beat, he's pointing at mini sausageswrapped in decident puff pastry. " have you tried these ? they're freaking delicious. their name is kind of absurd though. pigs in a blanket ? that's a choice. "

[fatefought]

@primvlas

aloysius was prepping discord and twitch. the older victor had spent most of the evening with wiress who had wandered off. the woman had a flighty tendency nowadays, her introversion taking full force. on the inside, beetee could very much relate. the escort from three might have an aneurysm if both mentors disappear however. she had taken the vocal lead at the presidential gala ; it was now beetee's turn.

small talk had to be the game of choice. ( though he always felt like the instructions were misplaced. ) at least the face before him was a vaguely familiar one. panem had salivated over the everdeen family for a year, making even prim and mrs. everdeen public figures now. his encounter with the former was brief at the wedding, not much to form an impression. did the fire also burn within her ? " are you a lottery recipeient ? over the years, we've had a handful of victor and tributes' family members with the honor. "

[fatefought]

@primvlas

caesar flickerman had rented the museum as a gesture of generosity and showboating. he won't fault that. the culture surrounding the capitol included showing off. if anything, it echoes kindly to the people of the districts who currently have inhabited the city. they had doubled the number of the lottery specifically for the quarter quell even. the unity of panem hasn't been this vital since the war.

speaking of, his heels echo as they clack along opulent, marble flooring. there's no sneaking up on the younger everdeen sister. katniss seems to surround herself with people who are inherentially steps above her: madge, peeta ... primrose. " i've always found this exhibit fascinating. those are medical records dating back to the rebellion. the barbaric acts of war were so senseless. "

[incaensio]

setting : the everdeens' home, at the victor's village, on the day of the announcement of the quarter quell.

with : primrose everdeen @primvlas

the phone is barely back on the hook when the tv clicks on, the obnoxious chime of the mandatory watch program signalizing its demand. katniss takes her time moving towards the living room. cinna had just told her of it, of how the capitolites have chosen four wedding dresses, and now must select the last one. how fitting it is she can not even pick her own wedding dress — not that she would want to — and that it is all another reality show piece. it doesn't matter. she will wear whatever they want her to wear, anyways. but she can hear the others shifting when the peppy broadcast shifts into the more somber hymn of panem. back to back, without a single falter on the power, the capitol continues on for the main event: the quarter quell. for that, katniss sits. between mother and prim with her ugly cat, the four of them do not pull their eyes from the screen as the president snow reads from a card, all too content, all too secure. rage simmers beneath katniss' skin, but it falls to a stop when he announces that, for the quarter quell this year, they have broadened the age range for citizens over the age of twenty five. she doesn't even care to listen to the bullshit about brain development — that has never stopped them from trying to kill teenagers, from almost killing her on live tv — as her gaze falls on prim. 

as it usually does, her heart fills with warmth, and katniss can not, nor does she try to, diminish the smile from covering her entire face. at twenty one, this was prim's last year at the reaping. katniss is not sure how the rule book worked, if by her volunteering when prim's name was called out, that meant that there would never again be slips of primrose everdeen in that bowl, but now it's certain. prim is free, and prim is safe. only her sister is not smiling, or looking at katniss as happy as she is. no, her gaze is on the third woman in the room. katniss' stomach drops. she hadn't thought of mother. lilian everdeen, who had traded her townie family for heath, who had taken them in as their own, who had lost her beloved husband and then almost lost her children, just a year before. katniss tries to imagine her mother in the capitol, being shown off with one of cinna's design — would she be on flames, too? — and then in the arena. lilian had fallen apart when heath had died. would she fall apart even before reaching the arena? would they immediately off her at the bloodbath? or would the gamemakers purposefully pick at her, because she's the rebellious katniss everdeen's mother? they would all see it, forever, played over and over again. 

before katniss can think of any words of consolation, lilian stands up herself, and with an attempt of a happy tone that katniss recognizes to be as pathetic as her own acting, she is gone towards the office, muttering words of 'i must deliver the honey syrup concoction to thom's mother'. almost immediately, katniss is on her feet, too. she would never admit it, that she's similar to her own mother, that woman who abandoned them as children when father died, the woman that, whenever she is near, katniss still feels resentment flare up, but it is almost identical to the manner she walks out of the door, trying to find something to do. the thoughts don't go away, though.

she decides to stay with haymitch for the evening. peeta sends a note he will spend the night at the bakery — of course, his brothers thought they were free when they did not volunteer for him last year, but katniss barely enjoys the irony of that — and with hazelle with the kids, katniss decides haymitch will have no solid supper tonight nor any company, and it is better to be with him than to be home. he doesn't talk, or follow her with his eyes, and his booze stench is almost a solace now. it doesn't hurt that, when she is ready to speak, he does try to offer some words of vague comfort. they're not a lot, but they're there, with the now normal acidity that shows he does not pity her, or belittles her (not for this, at least). and he still has plenty of clear liquor, too, so she has a swing, just one. that doesn't hurt, too.

by the time the night has fallen, she goes home. the thoughts return with one glance at the wedding photo of her parents, and katniss thinks of going into her mother's room as she climbs the stairs. instead, she goes towards the other occupied room, and after a gentle knock, she lets herself in. shame lingers for a moment, but it is short - lived — she can barely remember fighting with prim, who understood her better than anyone else, who coddled her better than anyone else too (despite how katniss would claim it was the opposite, her protecting prim, always). but prim, who won't be happy to trade her life for another she loves, is there. and if they can't talk about it with their mother, they can talk to each other. "where is that hideous excuse for a cat? i'm taking his place in bed tonight." katniss at once announces, but there is a small pause as she approaches. "unless you want to sleep with mom. i get that, if you do."

[incaensio]

setting : the hotel where the visitors are staying, pre - interviews. with : primrose everdeen @primvlas

she has done all that she could, from watching her tributes train combat to almost rip her hair out as they performed their skills only to the gamemakers to spend hours and hours with effie honing their posture, softening their accent, telling them what to expect for the interviews. she's spoken and scowled more than she remembers for a while just this afternoon, before they are released to their stylists, and katniss has her own meeting with her own; it is then, as cinna tells her of her outfit, and the ones he designed for madge and prim, that katniss decides she will switch out the penthouse for the hotel tonight. if anyone complains, she pays no mind to it — she swears her prep team is even a little bit excited, for the opportunity to work on her as well as the other visitors from twelve — and she is settled into her own (unnecessary) hotel room while her hair is pulled into a fancy do, her eyebrows tweaked and her nails filed and painted for what seems to be the tenth time in less than two weeks.

they let her be when it is all done, and katniss takes the first opportunity to scurry into the room in front of hers, closing the door and keeping her body there as if she could keep the horrors from entering her sister's room — katniss does not think she is very funny, but her comedic tone does come out around the people she's most comfortable around, and, of course, prim is the first in that list so the action is accompanied by an exaggerated grimace. "octavia said she's dying to do your hair." katniss announces, still not pulling herself from the door. "i think she wants to give you pink eyelashes that go up to here," she brings a finger to just above her own eyebrow; she's seen octavia wear one of those before, and could not pull her gaze from it for a while as she pondered how did she not poke her own eye out with that thing. "i can do your hair myself, if you don't want them, though. promise i won't let anyone dye anythin' pink either way."

[eventiderpg]

AFTER BEING INACTIVE for thirteen days, the following have 24 hours to post in character or contact the main; otherwise, your characters and faceclaims will be reopened:

@primvlas