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eventiderpg · 6 months

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Peeta's Parting Presentiment

Across Panem, there is a buzz surrounding Caesar Flickerman's newest guest. This is the third time Peeta Mellark has come on and each time he's divided the Nation; this is the third time he's been on, and Peeta is significantly worse for wear. That doesn't hinder two occurrences. The first: Caesar Flickerman continues to act as though the pair are old chums. The second: Beetee Latier is in a control room in District Thirteen with a bright team, including District Twelve's Aspen Barros. The Capitol Darling and The Capitol gossip have been discussing for approximately twenty minutes now unbeknownst to what's to happen.

District Thirteen's intel had told the rebels that Peeta Mellark would have another interview this evening. The control room in Thirteen was a buzz. Several higher ups in the technological side of the cause were here, including Beetee Latier and Aspen Barros. The former sits, staring at the massive holographic as Caesar's logo stretches across. He's positioned in the center of the dimly lit room. "Security has been breached against The Capitol's system. Given those on the inside, I do not worry about much resistance at the moment. Our objective today remains simple: get as many to see the propo during Peeta Mellark's interview as possible. Aspen, what do you see on your side?"

There was a part of her that still felt like an imposter even being in the room let alone in a chair but it's pushed aside when she reminds herself that Beetee wouldn't have selected her if she wasn't capable. Eyes remained trained on the screen in front of her monitoring the feed, grateful to have a task to take her mind off the way her chest tightened at the sight of Peeta's state. There's a clearing of her throat before she speaks, voice coming out calm and level. "No change in the feed, it's still just the interview." She wasn't sure if they'd begun to try to break the propo through yet but her screen remained fixed on Mellark and Flickerman. Aspen searches for something positive or reassuring ( old habits dying hard ) not knowing if there was anyone else in the room who needed it but her. "But I've managed to lock the channel, it's all anyone will be able to see."

There's a nod at the report. Beetee remains unperturbed by the results as Doralee Hinerich fiddles with her keyboard nearby. A practice propo had just been attempted, which didn't break through interference into Peeta Mellark's interview. "It might have aired on a differing station. No matter. You're doing well, Aspen. Keep watch. Let us know what the audience is seeing."

The tone of the interview had all in all been somber. Even Caesar's attire lacked its usual color, but he still spoke to Peeta Mellark like they were old friends. He casually ignored the state the baker's son was in. Any brashness was pushed aside with either a toothy smile or patronizing nodding. "Peeta Mellark, we must acknowledge the state of urgency across Panem. The Rebellion continues to strike havoc amongst our innocent Districts. Death follows everywhere the rebels go and every person they have touched. The bombing and fires in Eight, the bursting of the dam in Five, when will enough be enough? Do you have any idea what's going through the minds of these rebels - some of which you were notoriously close to?"

"How am I supposed to know what's goin' through any of their heads, Ceasar?" he asks, his voice tense, but shaky at the same time. He's not looking at the interviewer and instead his eyes dart from the cameras to the guards flanking either side. His hands are shaking, but that's nothing new. "All I know is that… is that… it'll never be enough. For any of you. Nothin' will be left."

It comes in fuzzy, a sound of a sweet melody. A feminine voice comes through, cutting off both microphones for a few months. Are you, are you, coming to the tree, rings almost alluringly. Flickerman's eyes flicker towards the crew, confused. Once the singing is stopped and he gets a thumbs up, eyeline moves back to Peeta. "Peeta, please continue. What will never be enough?"

His head tilts like a dog catching a sound the moment the singing starts, Peeta's eyes fixatated away from the cameras as though he can see where it's coming from. "Katniss?" he says, his voice strained, throat dry. It can't be… can it? But the second he thinks it, the sound is gone and Caesar is asking him a question. He blinks - too many times, too rapidly, his heart racing - and he looks back at the host. "What will…?" he repeats, trying to catch up. "Everything. We'll all die before this is over."

"She's not here, Peeta. Katniss Everdeen is actively aligned with the resistance, the very people who burned down District Eight with no remorse for life. But you're right, it seems they won't stop until all of Panem is punished. They don't care for the lives of our citizens. She doesn't care for our citizens."

A simple nod is given in reply, maybe she'd let a sense of accomplishment bloom later but for now she is focused on actually achieving their goal. Gaze studies the screen and waits for it to change, pushing away any rising emotions in favour of a clear mind. She's just about to report that there's been no change when suddenly the screen changes, the propo filling it rather than "Wait, I think we've done it." There's a hint of excitement in her otherwise calm tone as she prepares to brace for an inevitable pushback from the Capitol.

Beetee has a wide smile, one that almost never spreads across introverted lips. Yet eyes flicker between Aspen's screen as well as Doralee's that is capturing the maneuvering tactics of The Capitol attempting to navigate the intrusion. The latter question is for both women in essence. "Aspen, what are the those watching currently seeing? How long do you estimate until connection is back to their ideal?"

Out of the corner of her eye she catches Beetee's smile, finally allowing herself a small one of her own in the light of their success. She watches the propo and then watches the screen switch back to the interview, seemingly getting increasingly chaotic throughout their interruptions. "The propo. It sometimes cuts back to the studio but the audio is still ours. Flickerman is fighting to get it back under control."

Doralee mentions it will likely only be thirty more seconds as well. Beetee turns to look at Aspen again and remarks, "He seems to be able to see it. That's important. Notify me if there's any changes at all, Aspen."

And before Caesar Flickerman can continue, their mics are off again. The broadcast scurries over to a propo each time the mics are cut. No stranger would it be, if we met at midnight in the hanging tree, the song is audible for them though. Suddenly Peeta Mellark and Caesar Flickerman are back on the screen as The Capitol interrupted Aspen and Beetee's interference once more.

Caesar wants to only pin this on District Thirteen, but Peeta knows... oh, he knows. It's bigger than just one place, bigger than all of them, and the Capitol is at the center of it all. Before he can say anything about it, though, the broadcast flickers and he can hear the singing again. But not only that - on the side where the screen shows the interview, it's no longer him and Caesar, but Katniss. She stands in rubble, fires arrows towards a hovercraft, walks through the bombing. "Katniss!" he says again, tears in his eyes as his chest feels as though it's being ripped open. "Are you there? Can-can you see me?" She's not going to answer or maybe she is, he's not sure. He's sure of anything anymore except for the physical pain he feels at saying her name.

Caesar all but huffs at this point. It's a brief, like several milliseconds peep into the man behind the facade. He clears his throat and continues, as though the producer in the corner of the set isn't annoyed. "Peeta Mellark, please continue. We were discussing the actions of the rebels and the crimes against Panem that they are committing. People are hurting."

She watched as the screen continued to show the interview, still working to ensure it's the only channel anyone can access, but the sound coming through is theirs and she hopes that's enough. If nothing else it seemed to be provoking a reaction from Peeta. "We're back to Peeta on screen now and he's -" She knows mentioning his state isn't what's needed from her and so a frown settles itself on her brow, equal parts in concentration and worry for him. "- I think he's trying to tell us something."

Eyes flicker between the many screens across the control room. Before spinning his chair closer to Aspen, he spends some time at Doralee's desk. At one point, he's taking the keyboard away and even putting in some code, much to the displeasement of the capable District Thirteen woman. Soon he's at Aspen's desk once more. Eyes trail her screen before turning to her. "So it is reaching him well," he regards. Well not in his state of mind, but rather physically reaching Peeta Mellark. "And this is the feed everyone in Panem is currently seeing, yes? The interruption seems stronger now. They must be seeing and hearing more across the board, I imagine."

"It seems to be." Is the soft reply she gives to Beetee's question, thoughts increasingly pulled once more towards distress the longer she watches Peeta on the screen. But she resists, opting for pragmatism just a little longer. "It is, no one can see anyone else. They're fighting to get the other channels back but I've still got this one locked in."

"Good," he begins to remark as eyes linger on the broadcast. "They're going to start becoming more aggressive in trying to break our connection soon. This might be the only momentum we have with airing the propo within Peeta's airtime," he then starts to address the entirety of the room. "Continue pushing it through. Put everything into it. We don't want to lose our opportunity here. Let Panem see the Mockingjay."

And like clockwork, the Mockingjay's song rings. Are you, are you coming to the tree? Where dead man called out for his love to flee? The interruption longer in song, though her face gets cut from viewer sooner, leaving at called. The two men remain on the screen now.

Peeta sucks in a breath as it happens again, moving to sit at the edge of his seat, looking at closely at the screen as possible. It's her - singing once more - and something inside of him snaps back together. The sanity that's been slipping for weeks now suddenly coming back, albeit terrified. "We're all doomed, Caesar. You, me, everything will be destroyed. Katniss, Katniss - " He's speaking quickly, looking at the camera, trying to get it all out before he slips again. "Think about what you're doin'! There will be nothin' left! Everything, Ceasar. Everything will be gone!" His eyes bore into the cameras, his voice even faster now. "And you - " He feels the guards approaching. "You in Thirteen - " Closer now, he speaks even more quickly. " - Dead by morning!"

The producer is by the cameraman now, instructing what Caesar will eventually realize is strict instructions to cut the stream. The guards close in on Peeta, sooner than cameras can cut off even if just by moments.

She remains almost hypnotised by the screen, trying to listen to what he's saying and what it meant. The words were simple enough but she lost her grip on the logic and pragmatism that she'd been clinging to throughout, her emotions taking hold of her instead. The final break comes when the screen goes black but not soon enough. She can only watch in horror, helpless, as the fist makes contact with Peeta's face and she can only begin to imagine that what follows will be worse. Aspen had never been prone to tears but she might have wept for him there and then if it hadn't been for the sudden flurry of activity around her. "It's gone. They've shut it down." Is her only report, brief and almost murmured before her dazed gaze finally landed on Beetee again and focused once more. "Do you need me to do anything else?" She suspected that the answer would be no, given the way that others were clearing out of the room, but she'd never wanted to be useful more in her life. If that wasn't in this room then she'd find somewhere else to pour her energy in to drown out her thoughts with action.

Somewhere in the dust, a voice mentions Peeta Mellark is giving a warning to District Thirteen. The conclusion is right as minutes later, Thirteen receives an intensive air strike. This is an action that is hidden from the other twelve Districts, The Capitol, and those who watched the interview in the cellblock of the tribute center. The warning from one of The Capitol's captives saves many lives in the underground District. When it's safe to come out the following morning of day fifty-eight, hundreds of white roses have been splayed out over the earth of Thirteen. In two days time, the rescue mission will begin.

With our Mockingjay era plot drops, these will be similar to the Claudius and Caesar updates. You are absolutely welcome to write a self-para or actively do threads in relation to this plot drop! If you choose to roleplay this on the dash, please tag your threads with both #eventideevent04 as well as #eventideppp. Our players are now welcome to play through day fifty-eight, even though Peeta's interview took place the night of the fifty-seventh.

This plot drop does not effectively pause time in the roleplay. It does however signify that we are getting closer to the rescue mission in this era. As always, thank you for your patience. Thank you for still being here with us in EVENTIDERPG. Our RPG is better with you in it. Happy roleplaying!

#torture tw #bombing tw #eventideevent04 #eventideppp #eventideplot

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incaensio · 6 months

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setting : the morning after the bombing of district thirteen, amidst the roses. with : haymitch abernathy @fatefought

the scent of the roses is suffocating. she feels back at her room, in twelve, days ago, but even there, it had been only the one. here, she's drowning in them — she can barely keep the façade of calm she ought to, if this propo is to go well; instead, her face is almost as pale as the petals scattered around, and she has half a mind to pace all over the place, throw herself on the sea of roses, see if snow's gift also comes with corpses, if he has thrown peeta in there as well. but no, death would be merciful, and that is something president snow is not. he likes to toy with her, giving her roses from his own home for her wedding bouquet, stashing one of them in her home so she knows he knows where she is, bombing thirteen with bombs and roses so she understands her compliance to the rebellion means only mistreatment to her husband. not death, but worse. many lifetimes worth (because she knows they can bring him back from the death if they need to, hadn't they done it after their games?) of unspeakable torture just to break her.

well, they've done it. she can barely focus on the camera as she is positioned on the spot; usually, she finds that focusing on the red twinkling light signaling recording is easier, easier than to look at eyes and faces, but today, she can't help but to scan through them in a daze. cressida, messala, the twins, a couple of guards, boggs, plutarch. it's plutarch who is speaking today, heightening the importance to let the whole of panem know that thirteen is alive and so is the mockingjay. at times, she can split herself from the role and do what she's told, but this is not the case today. someone else is in the back, though not even he can escape the onslaught of roses. with a graying complexion, gray eyes and greyer clothes, haymitch is a sight she usually ignores but she finds herself attuned to his face today. in this light, he could be like the ghost she had met in twelve, a while ago — only her father's wrinkles were tugged around the corners of his mouth, laughter lines, and there was light in his gray eyes. there's none of that in haymitch's.

of course, he is not her father. no man alive can ever amount up to heath everdeen, not to his katniss, yet it is in his direction she begins to walk with wobbly steps. "i can't do this," her voice comes out as a whisper. someone presses on, but she can elaborate no further response, and, instead, she finds herself pressing her face to haymitch's uniform, her arms around his weakened frame — she can count on her fingers the numbers of times they've hugged, though she can't recall if she has ever wanted his embrace as she does now. katniss is skeptical that he feels differently, but today... today he must. he has always said he liked peeta better, hasn't he? "i don't wanna do this," she cries, away from the glare of the camera and from everyone else's. "i don't wanna be here anymore..." maybe someone will come and put her down soon, like the last she's lunged at haymitch. "he won't stop hurtin’ him..."

#— 𝐾. 𝐸. : written.#eventideevent04 #eventideppp #torture tw #death tw #panic attack tw

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