paradisa | Welcome to the 8th Annual Hunger Games

[This loss has been sitting and festering in Peeta, infecting him with a bitter, simmering rage. The longer the loss seems to go on for, the nastier he seems to get. He’s more aware of everything now, less prone to violent fits and more likely to lash out verbally.

There’s a tapping on the page like someone is poking at a microphone.]

Testing, testing. Hello.

This is Peeta Mellark. Just seeing how everyone’s stay is going. Mine’s fabulous. I just can’t wait to be killed. I’m trapped in a room, being prepared for the slaughter. Oh, but don’t worry. It’s only Peeta. We can step all over him. We can use him, lie to him, leave him behind.

Oh, and while I’m on the subject of my imminent death- Katniss? Oh, Katniss~ You wanted to see me? You can see me now. My babysitters say it’s okay.

[Then his voice takes on a rather nasty tone.] If you even want to.

That goes for any other “friends”, too. Visiting hours are open!

[ooc: Spoilers for Mockingjay! Open as can be! Any visitors will be met by two very large bodyguards, Noble Five and Noble Six. Threadjacking may happen with Five and Six if the threads are not private.]

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[Dairine lets him get his thoughts out there, hoping it'll help Peeta somehow. Isn't that something Mr. Millman would do? Let you talk at your own pace? (Lord, she could use Millman right now.)

When she speaks up again, her voice is softer.]

You see what I mean?

[There's a pause. He really doesn't.]

No.

They don't want any of that to happen to you. [Again.]

I certainly don't.

I don't think I can afford to rely on "friends" anymore.

[His words sting a little, but Dairine doesn't take them to heart. It's the loss (whatever it is) that's making him say these things.]

Why not? It's better than facing the world alone.

Because they left me! They left me and I was captured and tortured!

Maybe they did, but that doesn't mean we're all unreliable.

[He pauses, using the silence to collect himself a little bit.]

Would you trust anyone after that?

[Dairine falls silent as she ponders the weight of his question. Well? Would she?

She had never been one to trust people easily, thanks to the cruelty of her classmates. Dairine can’t deny that. For a while there, the only people she really trusted were family. But she always had someone she could rely on. If she went through what this Peeta was describing (and Dairine knows its more than a remote possibility, in her profession), what then? Would she still trust her sister? Her dad? The Senior Wizards? Roshaun?

Wait, why did she think of Roshaun of all people??

Dairine shakes her head, trying to clear it well enough to give Peeta a coherent answer. A true answer. When she finally speaks again, her voice is quiet, thoughtful.]

...Yes. Not everyone, and certainly not right away, but I’d still trust someone.

[A pause.]

...Can I trust you?

Definitely.

...Are you gonna come see me?

[He asked. He actually asked. Does this mean Peeta wants to see her? Dairine certainly hopes so -- loss or not, he's still a good friend.

And just like that, all the warnings she's received about "don't go near him" and "he'll hurt you" go flying out the window.]

Sure. If you want me to.

[There's a pause.]

I want you to. Room 328

I'll be there.

[It doesn't take Dairine long to find the room. It's only once she reaches the door that she pauses, debating whether to knock or not. Loud noises = most likely bad. Anyway, Peeta already knows she's coming, so wouldn't knocking seem a little redundant? Dairine decides to just skip it and lets herself in.]

Hey.

[When she comes in, she'll find they're not alone. Two big, armored bodyguards are in there. Peeta is sitting on a stool at an easel, painting the scene outside Jorge's window. He looks up.]

Are you Dairine?

[Dairine has already talked with Noble Five earlier, so she isn't all that surprised to see the guards. Other than a giving them polite nod, she largely ignores the two. They're not why she's here after all.

Instead she looks towards Peeta. The fact that he's painting, despite everything, is enough to bring a small smile to Dairine's face.]

I am.

[He studies her for a bit.]

I've seen your face. In a few of the paintings in my room.

[And that small smile broadens out to something warmer, almost excited even.]

Really? I have seen those yet, but it doesn't surprise me. You do like to paint your friends a lot.

I still have one of your paintings in my room.

Welcome to the 8th Annual Hunger Games

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