all_inclusive | Entries tagged with zz: peeta mellark

Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.

Throughout the day on the 14th, the Nexus staff deliver single roses and accompanying notes to designated hotel guests in celebration of the Valentine's Day holiday. For some, the gesture will be a foregone conclusion; for others, it will be a surprise. For some, they might only guess at who sent them the gift in the first place.

[Comments with deliveries ~~will follow~~ are done. You may reply to yours with a reaction if you like!]

iheartmahogany

This hotel, once she had managed to find herself employment, was a suitable distraction from the events in Panem.

Or at least, she assumed they were occurring. Separated as she had been from everyone she knew, she had found it best to simply pack, and run, and stay here. Possibly forever. What little she had managed to bring, while scarce in her opinion, at least brought her some comfort. And so many others were here, people of Panem, though they all seemed to have different recollections, not that it mattered. Time travel did not mystify Effie so much as prove to be too frustrating and distanced to concern herself with. All she really cared about was that Peeta and Katniss were safe, that they were far from the Capitol, and that she could make herself useful here.

Here she was able to keep control, keep organized, and help run a small kingdom of information and frustratingly strange and changing architecture. It was diverting, though, and not just for the fact that something new might happen every day; the front desk was a rather lively place. Effie saw so many faces - some of which were greatly in need of makeovers, though in an attempt to be sympathetic, she did not mention it (especially if they were startled newcomers). And it was interesting watching the movements of the hotel at large. At the moment they were celebrating a hodgepodge of wintry holidays, and she quite liked how there was added glitter and pomp to the hotel as a result.

She could usually tell if someone was new by the way they looked at her - as if she was rather out of this world, which was both correct, and actually rather flattering. Some, of course, had no reaction to her at all, and that was fine too. Effie was starting to enjoy life on a more simple note, for while the hotel was luxurious to some, it was several steps down than what she was used to.

She sat behind the front desk, finishing up organizing the way the rooms were listed (they seemed to change and, at the same time, bafflingly not alter themselves at all; it was hard to keep track). She would be done soon, at which point she supposed it would be time for a drink, before a long regime of personal beauty care (her wigs, after all, did not style themselves).

burn_with_us

November 27th, 2014 | Nexus Hotel

Katniss and the Victors celebrate a holiday that nobody in the Districts has ever heard of.

In Progress | All Ages

burn_with_us

The Nexus is a strange place. Food is free. Lodging is free. And unlike living in the Capitol, it doesn't seem that Katniss is under anyone's thumb or that anyone is pulling the strings. She's been here almost eleven months now and it's the same thing every day - trying to see where the strings are and not finding anything wrong.

She still doesn't trust it, because that's asking to be killed, but she relaxes a little more. She smiles a lot and she spends an awful lot of time with Peeta when she thinks nobody else is looking. It's sort of sweet and secret and safe and she'd like to keep it all three of those things.

Today, she's gone back through the forest door that she and Peeta like to frequent to find that it's been blanketed in fresh snow. It's the time of year that game would be getting harder to find but it's also the time of the year that game gets flushed out because it's looking for better places to spend the winter and that's what Katniss is hoping for.

She doesn't need to hunt to survive anymore but it seems to take the edge off things and today is no different than any other day. She sees a turkey and nocks her arrow, letting it fly and killing it easily. Deer are another story and it's times like these that Katniss wishes she had a gun; she hates guns but they kill quicker than bows. She spots a few but doesn't take a shot, instead just watching them until the cold seeps in past her leather and fur and she has to head back in to warmth. She brings the turkey along with her. She's a bakery assistant now and Peeta's her boss but maybe Peeta can figure something out to do with it. If nothing else, Katniss can clean it and roast it. That's not so hard.

Her time in the woods seems to have recharged her instead of making her melancholy and Katniss wonders why that is. She thinks Peeta could deal with idle chatter and small talk all day without losing his patience but she can barely manage a few words with someone she likes, much less continued conversation with someone she doesn't feel like talk to. It's not a strong suit.

Maybe she won't run into anyone between here and the kitchen.

71st_victor

It burns.

Her lungs burn as she runs, pushing her body to go further with every stride. She doesn't know how long she's been running, but it makes her muscles quiver and tremble and make her feel like she's doing something. She hasn't wanted to face the reality of going back, but that door still lurks there and it's showing up more and more, lately. Every time Johanna pulls open a door, she has to close it on the cannons of the games and the countdown that seems to want to draw her back in. This morning, she'd woken up and she couldn't take it anymore.

Once the doors had been cleared of danger, she'd put on her running shoes and she'd taken off. That had been two hours ago and now she's breathless as she pulls in deep wracks of desperate breaths, thinking that if she runs a little harder, she can escape the demon on her back that's so eager to yank her back. Eventually, she can't do anything more and when her legs give out from under her, she's near the garden where she'd buried her axe. Her hands collapse in the dirt and she leans forward, thinking that if this were the Games, this would be the perfect time to take out the competition.

And that's the problem, isn't it?

No matter how far she runs, no matter how hard, they're always going to be there. This place is a happy little hideout, but it's not reality. One day, Johanna is going to go back, if only so she can bury her axe in Snow's face and that thought, more than anything else, is what drives her to start digging with her shaking hands to get lower and to find her axe. Sweat pours over her forehead as she works, her determination stubbornly driving her on and maybe it's the adrenaline, but she's starting to think that even if she does have to go back eventually, she might just be okay.

Denial, though, has always been a victor's best friend and Johanna is far too aware of that sad little fact.

65th_victor

He'd been careful. He'd been really careful, because the last thing he wanted to do was go back into the arena.

But maybe he'd gotten complacent since the last door that had been special had been weeks ago, resulting in him being a girl for a couple of days. But since then, there'd been nothing. So maybe he hadn't been as diligent about watching where he was going, and maybe he'd been more than a little tired because Tristan hadn't slept well the night before and Finnick had been up with him for most of the night, trying to calm his son back down.

When Finnick did look up and found himself looking out into the jungle instead of into his room at the Nexus, he took a step back, his heart stuttering in his chest. Reflexively, he looked down: He was wearing the wetsuit he'd arrived at the hotel in.

He was back in the 75th Games.

"No, no," Finnick said out loud before he could stop himself. He turned around, desperately looking for the door that had led him in. He had to get back out. He couldn't be here. He couldn't be back here.

His brain suddenly snagged on a horrific thought: What if this wasn't a door at all? What if he had been sent back. It was something he couldn't even begin to fathom. It meant losing Annie and Tristan, and that was something he couldn't contend with.

The arena provided suitable distraction though: the sound of a cannon booming in the distance jolted Finnick back to the present. Door or home, he needed to stay alive. Weapon and water, Finnick thought, years of training fall back into place. The cornucopia was still in the middle of the arena, looking strangely deserted. He ran hastily across the beach and headed out into the water. He swam as fast as he could, reaching the cornucopia where a trident still sat, gleaming. He wrapped his hands around it -- just as he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, brandishing the trident in front of him.

burn_with_us

Today is her birthday. Birthdays aren't usually anything special in 12 and, if it's turning 12, it's usually something to dread. The only birthday Katniss has ever cared about was 19 and she's not there yet. Instead, she's turning 18 today and if nothing had ever changed, she would be lining up for the Reaping for her last time this year. She'd have so many names in the ball that she'd be bound to be picked but Katniss likes to think she'd be lucky. After all, she made it to sixteen without ever getting Reaped, didn't she?

It had been Prim who was Reaped that year, Prim who only had one name in the ball and had the best shot out of any kid in the Seam to never get Reaped. Prim, for whom Katniss had sacrificed everything.

On her birthday, Katniss always thinks of Prim. She thinks about how Prim always made it a point to give her something on her birthday even if she didn't have the resources that Katniss had. Somehow magically, there was good flint for starting fires or a little tinder box. Her boots got patched or there was good, pliable wood for new arrows. Prim always managed to make something out of nothing.

Today, so she doesn't think about Prim, Katniss decides to work. She's taking orders in the dining room, bussing tables, working back in the kitchen. Anything to keep her hands and mind busy so that homesickness doesn't threaten to eat her from the inside out. It's always been the mental things she's struggled with. She can deal with pain, hunger, death but she never, ever has been able to deal with thinking about just how much she misses her sister each and every day.

withbread

Peeta has gotten his hands on some painting supplies. It was a beautiful day and Peeta hadn't spent many of those outside because he'd been busy baking and exploring the hotel. However, today he was wearing a tee shirt and a pair of ratty jeans; the shirt as well as his arms and hands were smudged with paint. The scene slowly emerging on the canvas was one of a meadow with mountains, the sun just setting beyond them. His brow was furrowed as he focused on getting just the right shade and light in the sunset.

Peeta was adjusting here. He was beginning to live a life. He enjoyed his job baking for the hotel. He was beginning to branch out and open some of the doors, no longer terrified that every one would bring an army of peacekeepers from the Capitol down on them. He was still wary about the Capitol finding them, and he probably always will be, but it no longer paralyzed him in his daily life here.

After several moments, he took a step back, lips pressed together as he contemplated the scene. He was missing something, but he wasn't quite sure what yet. After several moments of studying the canvas, he put his brushes aside and toe-heeled his shoes off to wiggle his toes in the grass. Maybe taking a break would help.

withbread

Peeta's first couple of days here had been rough, but he'd begun to settle in. He'd begun to accept and hope that what Finnick, Johanna, Annie and Katniss had said about being safe from the Capitol here were true. He'd done a good deal of exploring and if this place is everything it seems, then he's grateful to be here. He's grateful that Katniss is here. He's been looking for a door back to District 12 as well, with the intent to check on Prim for Katniss. So far, all he's found is a door back to the arena and that's somewhere he definitely doesn't want to go.

After doing a little bit of settling, one of the first things he'd done was to apply for a job in the kitchen as a baker. Baking had always been a way for him to cope with his emotions, and that hasn't changed here. It helps calm him, helps settle him and makes him feel like he's got a purpose.

He's in the kitchen today working on loaves of bread (because a place like this uses an astounding amount of bread). He's got a chef's jacket on that covers the bandage on his arm, a wound still raw from when his tracker was dug out. In general, he looks content verging on happy. If he can hold everything together here, if he can keep Katniss and this isn't some game, he's hopeful for what this place could mean to him.

withbread

When Peeta's entire world exploded, he expected many things, mostly that he'd die, but he hadn't expected to find himself in a hotel. His ears are still ringing from the explosion, he's riddled with scrapes and he's not wearing a whole lot as the skin tight suit has mostly been eaten away by acidic smoke. He's also got patches of greenish-grey scattered across his skin from some medicine they'd all used to treat bug bites and help with sunburn.

He gets to his feet, still reeling from both the explosion and the scenery change. He's got a tight grip on a sword. "Katniss!" he screams at the top of his lungs, but whether it's because he's still somewhat deaf from the ringing in his ears or because he could care less what sort of attention he attracts is unclear.

So sorry for the half naked boy wandering from room to room, dragging his sword and yelling for Katniss at the top of his lungs. Do be careful approaching him.

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