An Indie Katniss RP blog
I track xforeverdeen
“Every word gets you a step closer to hell.”
"You’re a regular decorated emergency."
"Am I who you think about in bed?"
"I’m exactly where you’d like me, you know."
"What a beautiful wedding!"
"What a shame the poor groom’s bride is a whore."
"Just stay where I can see you."
"I’m wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it."
"It looks like the end of history as we know."
"It’s useless searching in the cupboards."
"Things are shaping up to be pretty odd."
"Things have changed for me, and that’s okay."
"You remind me of a former love that I once knew."
"I missed your skin when you were east."
"Would it be all right if we just sat and talked for a little while?"
"Allow me to exaggerate a memory or two."
"I don’t love you I’m just passing the time."
"There’s nothing wrong with just a taste of what you’ve paid for."
"Say what you mean, tell me I’m right."
"Show them all you’re not the ordinary type."
"Are you worth your weight in gold?"
"I led the revolution in my bedroom."
"I may never sleep tonight."
"It was always you."
"It’s said if you don’t let it out, you’re gonna let it eat you away."
"At night your body is a symphony, and I’m conducting."
"I’ve got just one regret to live through, and that one regret is you."
"Everything I promised everyone I’d be, well I just ain’t."
"Everything seems to be estranged when you’re alone."
"I’m not a betting man but this is a sure thing."
"I’m not trying to hurt you, I just love to speak."
"If you love me let me go."
"Where will you be waking up tomorrow morning?"
"Would you change it if you could?"
"I’ve lost control and I don’t want it back."
"Sometimes you’re better off alone."
"But if you change your mind, you know where I am."
"Looks innocent enough, doesn’t it?"
"Stay for as long as you have time."
"I’ve never so adored you."
"Don’t let me do this to myself."
"Well I never really thought that you’d come tonight."
"If you’re gonna be the death of me, that’s how I wanna go."
"I am always yours."
"I dodge the blast, and apologize for collateral damage."
"Can we fast-forward till you go down on me?"
"I’m looking forward to another day without you."
"I think you’re in over your head."
"Shut your mouth and listen closely."
"Hey, kid, you’ve got, a lot of potential."
"I miss you. I’m so sorry."
"Smile like you don’t give a damn about the consequence."
"Put up or shut up, we’re not wasting time again."
"Don’t forget, we’ve got unfinished business."
"Take it off, take it all off."
"You can’t be serious."
"Don’t complain if you can’t win."
"Make all of my decisions for me."
"I’ve never told a lie, and that makes me a liar."
"I’ll take you out though I’m hardly worth your time."
"When you gonna give it up?"
"Make it count when I’m the one who’s selling you out."
"Your words don’t mean shit to me."
"I’ve done something so terrible."
"Get a grip and get out."
"Why don’t you say so?"
"I’m gonna break your little heart."
"I think that I should go."
"You’re only happy when I’m wasted."
"I’m having my doubts."
"In retrospect, I wouldn’t do it again."
"Stop talking shit to every one of your friends."
"So vindictive, you’ll say anything you like."
"Let’s drink to feelings of temptation."
"I’m getting sick of your bullshit attitude."
"I don’t care if people stare."
"I feel like dancing tonight."
"Was it real?"
"You know I’m never gonna let you go."
"You wonder if it’s worth it."
"You’re anything but ordinary."
"I wish you could see your face right now."
"But I tell myself I can handle it."
"You’re not a hero, you’re a liar."
"I’ll misbehave if it turns you on."
"I need a friend."
"Don’t you see what you do to me?"
"Stop fucking around with my emotions."
"We go together or we don’t go down at all."
"I have to let you down."
"Smile, tell me I’m all right."
"You are so misleading."
"Now all I do is sit and count the miles from you to me."
"Damn, it’s such a shame that we’ve built a wreck out of me."
"Nothings making sense at all.”
"What more can I do?"
In an all too familiar fashion, Peeta woke with a start and covered in a cold sweat. It seemed it was the only way for his body to wake him up anymore. However, it was the dream that had been different than the usual, leaving him a little out of sorts. For once, it didn’t relate back to Darkspawn or other dark shadows that crept along in the corner of his eyes. This time, it was something… halfway pleasant. One of the few memories that lingered that actually made him happy.
But just like everything else in his life, it was tainted too. It always ended with his mother, pushing him into that damn carriage, pulled back into her web. Even now, miles upon miles away from her, with her believing he was either dead or gone, she still had a way of creeping back up on him.
With a soft groan, Peeta ran his hands over his face and sat up in his makeshift cot. What had seemed like a good idea last night to stop and sleep for the night suddenly did not have the same appeal anymore. Not if it involved more dreams that would only end up hurting him in the end. The Chantry had more than taught him that hanging onto idle dreams would get a man nowhere. Especially when he had more important things to be doing. Like tracking the Darkspawn in the mountains.
One good rub of his eyes later, Peeta was willing to face the light of day, peeling back the cover of the tent and climbing up to his feet out in the open. Dawn was just starting to break out and the cool morning air helped to turn the sweat cold against his skin. He stretched his arms out over his head and considered if there would be nearly enough time to stop for a dip in the stream he saw nearby, before he more felt than heard the landing behind him. By the time he turns though, he is staring down the shaft of an arrow, aimed directly at his face.
"Ma emma harel, shemlen. Au tu na’din," a heavy, hard, and sharp voice hisses at him. Peeta follows the arrow back to it’s owner and finds the Dalish huntress who has him locked in place.
"Great," Peeta mutters under his breath. As if an evil reminder last night wasn’t enough, now a Dalish girl is here to rub in the salt to his old, recently reopened wounds. As if it wasn’t enough either, she has to look like her too. Dark hair, mercury eyes, small, yet lithe frame. The Maker must be laughing at him, making him the end of some sick joke today and the day has barely even begun.
Slowly, Peeta raised his hands in surrender. After all, he was only in his tunic and slacks, his armor taken off and his sword still laying beside his things. There was very little he could do to fight her off if she did choose to end his life right then and there. Still, he had to try to talk his way out of it. After all, if her clan was nearby, they were all more than likely in danger and despite himself, his soft spot for all elves had never truly gone away despite how some of the Chanters had tried to weed it out of him.
"Listen, I’m not here to hurt you or any of your clan. I swear it. And I also realize that you probably have no reason to trust a… a shem like me. I wouldn’t blame you, but on my honor as a Grey Warden, I promise you that I mean no harm. I am simply passing through and, if I may, I would suggest that you and your clan do the same thing. This area is not safe," I answer her, speaking as low, calmly, and evenly as possible so as not to escalate things further. The last thing I want is to end up with that arrow in my brain, after I’ve come this far.
Katniss watches in near glee as the Grey Warden throws his hand up in defense of her raised arrow. She loves to watch shems shake in their boots. It’s one of the few pleasures that she gets in life. And she will make this one pay if he’s here to harm her clan in anyway shape of form. She won’t stand for it. She will protect her clan at all costs. There have been too many accidents for her to trust anyone. This man is no different.
She furrows her brows at him as he tries to use their terms. Shem. It sound awkward and wrong coming from the man’s mouth and she wishes that she could reach out and slap his mouth for daring to use the word. He shouldn’t even be allowed to know if the words, much less use it in reference to her. He shouldn’t use it to another elf. Katniss feels like he’s bastardizing her language and that’s something else that she won’t stand for.
She narrows her eyes as he keeps speaking, stumbling over his words. She rolls her eyes, not lowering her bow. She sighs, before speaking to him in return. She hasn’t spoken regular Ferelden in awhile, so she’s sure that it’s broken and she probably sounds just as awful as he does. “Listen, shem. I don’t know who you are. You may or may not be here to hurt me. I don’t know which. But I cannot just take your word for it. I’m sorry to say. I must take you back to my clan and you will tell my Keeper why you’re here.”
Katniss sighs as she realizes that means talking to Gale. She’s been trying to avoid him because every time she’s close enough for comfort, Gale starts asking her when they are finally going to get married. Katniss doesn’t want to get married. She only agreed to the engagement because it’s expected of her. It’s not that she doesn’t care for Gale, she does. He’s been her best friend for as long as she can remember, but there’s something about him that makes her not want to marry him. That’s another story, however, and Katniss doesn’t have time to dwell on the idle details of her life.
She still doesn’t lower her arrow as she watches the Warden carefully. She notices that he looks familiar. Sparkling blue eyes and blonde hair. She’s reminded of Peeta Mellark, her first friend, and the one that made her think that not all humans were bad. She sighs, wishing that she hadn’t. The Warden might ask question and she doesn’t need that. She doesn’t want him to think that anything is wrong with her or that she’s any less capable of doing what she says she can. She will kill him if she has too. She’ll do anything for her clan.
But the fact that he looks like Peeta is enough to almost make her let him go, but she thinks better of it. There’s no way that the Warden before her is her old friend.She wishes that she could see him again. But she can’t. She has to push it from her mind.
“Come on, Warden,” she hisses, jabbing her arrow in his direction. “Gather your things. We’re going to see my clan. And don’t try to pull anything. I will kill you, shem. And another thing, don’t use our words. They don’t sound right coming from your mouth and I don’t like it.”
For a moment, he did not even notice a thing other than her face. But slowly, the changes started leaking to the forefront of his mind. Skinnier face, darker circles under her eyes, and… and her arm.
His eyes still stayed locked onto her arm, even as she gets up and walks towards him. All the marks, up and down, it creates a strange array of dots. What happened to her? What had they done to her? The Capitol… no, President Snow had done this, whatever this was, to her. She came even closer, and just as I was about to reach out and take her arm, ask just what these red dots were, when suddenly, she collides with him with a force he surely was not expecting.
Katniss’ whole body hits him and before Peeta knew it, he was falling backwards. And for a second, he thought that perhaps it was a hug, the bone-crushing kind that he had just seen Finnick and Annie share a few moments before. Until her voices rises up.
"You fucking liar! You mutt! You wanted me dead all along! I’ll kill you!"
Before he knew it, Peeta was flat on his back with Katniss on top of him. It wasn’t so unfamiliar. After their first interview, she had pinned him up against the wall, threatening him and screaming at him. However, this time, it is clearly different. Her hands fall on his throat and all the air goes from his lungs with the pressure she puts on him. Her nails dig into his skin, her anger and hatred overflowing in her eyes, those venomous words searing his ears.
Struggling, Peeta grabbed her arms and tried to push her off, stop her, do anything. But she was too strong. He could feel her knees gripping his sides, right under his ribs, her hands clamping down even harder than before, and her putting all her weight onto them.
Spots started to form in front of his eyes. Repeatedly, he gagged and tried to gasp for breath, get any inch of air that could be afforded, but she was too strong, surprisingly so. The spots were followed by the ringing in his ears, muffling the voices that were shouting and screaming. Other arms fall on her shoulders, trying to pull her away, and for a moment, they relieve the weight, but Katniss is too insistent, pushing and pushing, crushing all supply
Until weathered hands came int the mix. Haymitch’s arms circle around her and lift her up cleanly off the ground. Rasping and coughing, Peeta scrambled away, grabbing his raw throat. Nurses and doctors come towards him, people flooding in from all sides, but the damage had been done. Peeta was slowly pulled up to his feet, but his throat felt crushed and destroyed. His breath came in short wheezes, it felt raw and there were lingering tears in his eyes.
However, despite all of that, Peeta’s eyes still went to seek out Katniss. He only caught one last glimpse of her, with a nurse sticking a needle into her thigh, before he was ushered out of the room and over to one of his own where nurses started to tend to his neck.
But the door stayed open, just a crack, enough for him to hear the people outside. “What happened here? I thought you said she was stable!” a harsh female voice hissed. Coin. Of course she wouldn’t be too far away. She was always watching after all. This though only meant trouble, and not for anyone in particular except Katniss.
"She was fine in the hovercraft, Madam President," one of the rescue team spoke up.
"Obviously she wasn’t, if this is the reaction she had. She could have killed him And we need both of them. Alive. Not strangling each other," she hissed, her normal cool completely cracked.
"It’s not going to happen again," another voice says.
"No, it won’t. From now on, they stay separate," Coin states.
Panic rises up inside of Peeta in a hurry. Sure, Katniss may have tried to strangle him, but keeping them apart was not the way to solve things. He had to know why she did it and what happened to her in the Capitol. Just how much of whatever they had done to her had been his fault. I’ll be damned if she thinks she can keep me away, Peeta thought to himself, before trying to push up from the table.
Several pairs of hands tried to push him back, but he would not be stopped. He had to get his say in. However, the moment he opened his mouth to call out to Coin, he realized there was more damage than just the soft bruising starting to form on his throat.
All that came out of his mouth was a raspy gasp of air. No words, no voice, not a sound. Immediately, Peeta’s hand shot up to his throat as he tried again. And again. He willed anything to come out, but no. Nothing. He was the Voice, without a voice.
This would not stop him though. With renewed vigor, Peeta stormed towards the door. He had only just reached the frame, bursting through, when he felt the familiar sting in his right arm. Again, he turned just in time to see a needle leaving flesh. “Get him on the table before he passes out,” a doctor said, before everything faded to black.
She knows she’s failed before she’s even been pulled from on top of him. There were too many people in the clinic. She hadn’t been smart about her attack. She’d seen an open opportunity and she’s taken it because the voices were screaming in her head.
Kill Peeta. Kill him. Kill him now.
The urge to wrap her fingers around the throat she’d once kissed had overwhelmed her. She could barely see straight. She had seen nothing else until she’d toppled Peeta to the ground and tried squeezing all the air from his lungs. She might have regretted it. Maybe she should. But she’s just telling at him, screaming at the boy who once had made residence in the depths of her heart and she’s loving it. She can barely believe how much fun she feels like she’s having. Something almost snaps within her as Haymitch’s arms encase her and pull her from Peeta’s body. She was once forced to kill and she hated it. Why is this different? She barely puts up a fight as they stick a needle in her and everything goes black.
When she wakes up, she doesn’t know where she is. She barely remember anything. As her sleepy eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights, she remembers. She remembers the rescue, she remembers Thirteen and she remembers…
“Peeta!” is the only word that escapes her lips as she tries to move, but something is holding her back. She’s strapped to the cot that she’s laying on. Of course she is. She’d just tried to kill Peeta. He probably hates her and for the first time since returning from the Capitol, she feels a pang of sadness and regret.
Peeta never loved you. Why are you sad? He wants you dead, Katniss.
She’s trying her best to ignore the menacing voices ringing in her ears but the silence around her is consuming her. The only thing she can hear is the talking coming from the depths of her mind and her sadness is slowly fading away.
She hears the sound of a door open and panic washes over her. A memory of people in white coats with giant needles flashes through her mind and she struggles against her restraints, attempting to flee. She doesn’t want these people after her here too. She won’t let them take anything else way from her. From what she can tell, they’ve already taken enough.
“Relax, sweetheart,” a familiar voice says. “I’m not him. Unless you want to kill me too.”
Katniss’ eyes go from the ceiling to Haymitch across the room. She feels relief at first, but she doesn’t know if she should. The voices in her head are telling her that she shouldn’t be, but she’s not so sure that she should trust them at the moment. She wishes she could pull herself from the straps holding her in, she had an overwhelming urge to hug him.
Haymitch betrayed you. He knew about the Rebellion all along. He was helping them use you. He doesn’t care about you.
Katniss’ hands turn to fists and her teeth clash together as she tries to will the voices from her mind, but they seem to want to stay. She could almost sob from frustration but she manages to hold it in.
“What do you want?” she asks, looking away from him once again. She’s afraid to admit that the voices are winning out. She’s probably being more harsh with Haymitch than she would like to be.
“No need to snap at me, sweetheart,” Haymitch says, pulling a chair up beside her bed. “I’m just here to talk. I need to know what you remember about the Capitol.”
Don’t tell him, Katniss. He doesn’t care about what we did to you. He just wants to use you.
“I…I…” she starts, her fingernails digging into the flesh of her hands. She’s sure she’s broken the skin, she doesn’t care. She hast to get something out before the voices take over. “I’m not sure. Just that they messed with my head.”
Katniss that wasn’t very smart. You’ll have to kill him now. He’ll tell the others. They’ll kill you.
That was the last straw. Katniss lunges forward, trying to slip her arms from the straps, attempting to do the same thing to Haymitch that she tried to do to Peeta.
“Get out,” she hisses. “Stop trying to fucking use you me. I’m not a play thing.”
Haymitch just shakes his head. “We’re not the one trying to us you, sweetheart.”
“Bullshit,” she snaps, pulling at the straps again. She knows that it’s useless, she isn’t strong enough, not with the haze of drugs still heavy on her brain. “You guys just want me for your precious Rebellion. You don’t give a fuck what they did to me there. What are you even here? And you’re sober? That’s a surprised. They won’t let you have your precious alcohol here?”
She can tell that the words sting Haymitch, but she can’t find it in here to care that much. She feels a little sad because part of her knows that Haymitch has been good to her, the other part believe that she want to use her.
“Maybe I wasn’t the right person to send in here,” Haymitch says, putting his face in his hands. “I don’t like seeing you like this, sweetheart.”
“I don’t believe that,” she says, eyes focused on the ceiling. “You love it, I’m sure.”
Haymitch pushes himself up from the chair, backing away from Katniss’ bed. “Sweetheart, I hope they can help you because I sure as hell can’t.”
And before Katniss can say another word, he’s gone and she’s screaming, demanding that he come back, rattling the cot, pulling at the restraints. Even in the blurry haze of venom, Katniss knows that she’s lost control.
Peeta laid his head back against the seat on the train. When he closed his eyes he almost didn’t realize they were moving and he preferred it that way.
The first time he had been on this train he didn’t want to close his eyes at all for the fear he might miss something. The only benefit of dying in the games would be seeing what life was like outside of District Twelve. From the moment he laid eyes on the fence that separated District Twelve from the rest of Panem, from the rest of the world, he liked to imagine what it might look like just beyond the trees. His paintings and drawings paled in comparison to the green of the rolling hills and the yellow of wheat grass growing tall in the fields.
Now, when he dares to gaze out the window of the train he see blackened remnants of the Districts that once were and it reminds him so much of himself; even a weed must have proper soil to grow in. So Peeta lays his head back and listens to the hum of the train accelerating down the track back to District Twelve; back to his home.
Sleep only comes in fits, once he even awakens with a jolt and frightens a young boy across the aisle. The notorious Peeta Mellark, he thinks to himself. Lover, Traitor, Mutt. He isn’t the least bit surprised when the boy scoots into his mother’s lap.
The train stops in each district and Peeta watches as the people exit the train. Some of them carry small suitcases and some of them carry nothing at all. He can’t help but wonder about each of their stories—where they came from, where did they go, who’s side were they on? He thinks about Snow and Coin and with a sick twinge in his gut he finds that he’s pleased that they’re both dead. He was just a weapon, wielded like a gun or a knife… or a bow. Peeta Mellark, the Capitol’s weapon.
When they finally reach District Twelve, Peeta grabs his small bag, slinging it over his shoulder. His fingers wrap around the paper in one of his pockets and then slowly he puts one foot in front of the other until his feet rest on the dusty stones of District Twelve.
Katniss should probably feel bad for what she’s doing, but she can’t find it in herself to feel guilt. Some days all she can do is feel. She feels sad, sad that nearly everyone she loves and cares for has been taken away from her. She feels angry. Angry that that she couldn’t save them when that’s all that she had wanted to do. She feels frustrated. Frustrated with herself that she’s let all of this get to her and that she’s become a shadow of the person that she once was. She hates all of this. She hates what’s happening to her but she doesn’t know how to fix it. She doesn’t know if she can.
How do you fix something so broken? How do your repair a human being that’s barely human? She’s so far gone into the haunted recesses of her own minds that she can barely function. It’s a miracle that she’s even able to walk, at least to her anyway. She doesn’t know how to fix herself and even if she did, she’s not sure that it would be worth it. What does she have to live for anyway?
She opens up the medicine cabinet and takes a razor from the shelf there. She doesn’t hesitate to crack it apart on the sink and remove the tiny, silver blades from their confines. She knows that this is wrong, that this isn’t helping anything, but it’s the only thing in her life that she has control of anymore.
She hasn’t been in control of her own life since she stepped forward, screaming that she volunteered as tribute. Ever since then, it’s been a whirlwind of what everyone else wanted her to do, what they wanted her to say. Maybe she took a few liberties. The berries. Her feelings for Peeta. But for the most part, she hasn’t been behind the wheel of her own life for longer than she cares to admit.
Maybe it’s not all about control, either. Every time she digs that blade into her skin, she can’t help but think about all of the lives that were lost because of her. The ones that she ended with her own hands and the ones that she indirectly caused by her own stupidity. She can see the girl from District One, bloated and coved in Tracker Jacker stings. She thinks of Marvel falling to his knees with an arrow in his chest. She thinks of all the charred bodies scattered all over District Twelve. They all died because of her. And so many more people all over Panem. They probably suffered. They probably died in pain, screaming for help when none was going to come. It’s al l her fault. She deserves to feel just as much pain, if not more. This is all she can do.
She presses cool silver into olive skin and winces slightly as she pulls it across. She’s careful not to go too deep. She doesn’t feel suicidal today. Maybe the first time in days. But something tells her that its’ enough for now to feel the sting and watch as her crimson blood trickles into the skin.
For some reason, she’s reminded of Peeta’s words. The ones on the beach. “No one really needs me.” She wants to laugh at how untrue that is. She doesn’t think she’d be like this. She’d at least have one thing to live for.
She sighs sadly as tears form in her stormy grey eyes and fall down her cheeks. “I do,” she mutters to herself, allowing the blade to press against her skin again. “I need you.”