HAYMITCH ABERNATHY (
punchdrunkvictory) wrote in
yeeeeeeeeeeah2012-03-25 11:05 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Her eyes were bright and clear
Needless to say, it'd been a rough week for the Capitol and her rebellious children.
Things weren't exactly looking up, but considering two power hungry political minds were out of the way, things were at least looking straight forward again. Except for the fact Katniss was being kept under lock and key until her trial was over. And if the results of her trial weren't favorable...
And for that reason alone, Haymitch was back to the bottle, quite literally. He drank down the bitter liquor, the sting distracting him from heavy thoughts and worries. Worries. Too many damned worries. About Katniss. About Peeta.
And strangely, about a prissy Ms. Trinket. Or used to be prissy. Or what ever.
She hadn't been the same. He wouldn't call her lifeless. Nah, he would have almost called her soulless before all of this started. But it was as if whatever the Capitol had done to her, had drained her of what made Effie...Effie. Even if it was prissy and several layers of annoying.
He looks down at the bottle, frowning. Not enough alcohol to drown these worries apparently.
no subject
It was, she was pretty sure, the first time Haymitch had seen her with anything but perfect posture. But she also knew Haymitch didn't put much stock into the image she kept well maintained. She nudge her shoes off and pulled her feet up and nursed the drink and tried not to think about the last few months.
"You take care of those children." She finally said softly.
She had learned to become unattached to tributes early. She tried to help them, when she could, but manners and presentation really only got you so far. Haymitch had been a victor before she started...and since then the only time she'd even had hope was Katniss and Peeta. And now...
Well, they were still both alive, at least.
no subject
He lets the silence settle for a moment before really thinking about that line, "...Couldn't bare coming back with us princess?"
Of course she couldn't. Too caught up in her 'manners' and culture even now. She wouldn't be able to stand the now desolate District 12, even in one of the fancy victor houses.
no subject
Not the thought of living in 12.
The though of living here.
The hostility towards those who participated in the Games, even in a role like her own, who had worked to help the tributes, was palatable.
And she had no job. No hope of getting a job again. In fact the only reason she wasn't still looked in a tiny bare room was the mercy of Katniss Everdeen. Mercy the guards were grudging to give.
She shuddered softly.
And then downned the rest of her drink in one go.
And then began to cough in the least graceful way possible.
no subject
"And what do you think they're going to do with you here?" he said, bite in his tone, "You may be a citizen, but you know what's waiting for you once the dust clears."
Another person dying. Haymitch's face hardened at the prospect. It had been a bloody war. Too many were lost in it. Innocents. Lovers. Good people. And while Effie was most definitely none of those things (really though, he wasn't so who was he to pass judgement?)...she didn't deserve to die.
When she coughed he made no comment. He could have. He could have prodded, asking where exactly did a lady learn to cough like that.
But he didn't. His mood had shifted, and not in a good way. He downed the drink, same as her, but with no coughing. This was a mood he didn't like. Things he didn't like to think about. So his answer?
He finds the next bottle, opening it and leaning over to pour more in her glass before she can say more. This is always the answer, even when it's not.
no subject
And that was when she broke open and feel apart. It was an odd sorta of curling in on herself, her knee coming up and her body contouring down, as if she was protecting the drink clutched in her hand. Her head dropped, trying to hide her face, trying to protect herself as the weight of everything came crashing down.
no subject
It wasn't often Haymitch had a women crying in front of him. The only people he's had crying was yonug teens about to sent off to die, and it's normally be significantly numbed by alcohol.
This was completely different. She was a grown adult. And one he couldn't just mumble an apology, while walking away awkwardly. He looks between her and his cup, before setting the cup down and sitting up straight, and trying to talk a little softer...trying to at least, but the alcohol was making that a bit difficult, "It's not going to be that easy. You know that."
no subject
Whatever had just broken wasn't going to be patched up with any tools Effie possessed. There was not enough make up and good manners in the world.
Finally she managed to get her voice, although she was more mumbling to her drink than talking to Haymitch.
"I don't know what to do. This is all I know."
Merry christmas...also lets just pretend that's effie in this icon
All of their hands had been forced in the last few weeks and it was unsettling. It took Haymitch a moment to get through the haze before it struck him; she'd been jarred harder than what she was used to.
..Funny that, Haymitch having a moment of actual sympathy. He tried to shake it, but now he couldn't, just thinking how before she'd been captured by the Capitol, the only death and torture she'd truly seen was on a screen. Even Haymitch could admit, it was easy to detach oneself from that.
His hand moved before he could stop it, resting on her knee in silence in some attempt at comfort.
Shit now what was he supposed to say.
Katniss did become a fashion icon.
There was a lot of things Haymitch was. But one of them was large, and strong, and a constant (if not always pleasent) prescence in her life. More so than anyone else, really. And something about him, being here now, just brought everything together full circle.
The Games were over. Not only did Effie not have a career (one which she had really focused her life around, because with that job there was no other option), her former career left her caught in the middle. The rebels (though she supposed they weren't really the rebels anymore) hated her for reaping children. The Capitol hated her for wanting to stop that. And really, she would never feel comfortable here after...after what they'd done. To her. To everyone.
"I could come with you?" She said softly, against his shirt.
Effie you are not a fashion icon sorry to break it to you.
He thought about it for a moment and then nodded, "Why the hell not?"
yes I am shut your lying drunk face haymitch.
She shifted, wrapping her arms around him. She knew Haymitch wasn't exactly...touchy feely. But she had no other way to express how it made her feel.
I THOUGHT BEING DRUNK MADE YOU MORE TRUTHFUL.............
"We'll go back to 12 and start over. All of us."
clearly not, it's just making you delusional.
True, a new start in 12. Which...was not a place she'd ever wanted a start in. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine living there. Without what she had here.
Which was sort of the point, because she didn't have it here either.
Still, no clothes, no make up, no parties. But maybe that was what she needed right now. As much as she thought she wanted parties, the thought of actually attending one seemed...horrifying.
your face is delusional
But that was gone now. The Capitol's rule was over. And she had no where else to go. And ever a bitter man knew when he couldn't abandon someone who'd be torn to pieces if left here.
"Take it or leave it. I know it's not great...but.."
He trailed off, leaving her to come up with the conclusions.
my face is made of skittles
"I...should get packed then. When are you going back?"
She lifted her self up, smoothing out her skirt. She would have to do a lot of sorting to decided what to take to 12 and what not to. Most of her things would be...ridiculously out of place there. And maybe it was better to make as clean a cut as possible.
that's really offensive to the districts.
He'd gotten more attached to her than he'd admit, but it was probably obvious to all of them now. He wasn't leaving the Capitol with out her. And now Effie was going to be coming with him. Living with him. It was slightly surreal.
All of this was surreal though.
no subject
"Do we know, how much longer it will be?"
no subject
"No clue. We might be stuck here for a bit."
no subject
She had been going home, but home reminded her too much of people who hadn't been found yet. And the way things use to be.
And leaving, moving around the city was terrifying. There was no sympathy for the Capitol, and especially for her.
no subject
It was weird not to be bickering with her. Things had changed greatly since the 74th hunger games where Peeta and Katniss had entered together and were the first to leave together. While he and Effie were far from perfect people...they've managed to team up, and even Haymitch had to admit he was glad to see the former escort still alive after everything was said and done.
no subject
She stared down at the drink, fairly forgotten since her break down.
"Will you be ok going home?"
She had heard whispers about 12 even before being released. But she wanted to know what he had to say on it.
no subject
no subject
She nodded, heading out to start packing up. Putting her whole life into boxes. Most of them were packed up and put into storage.She knew she'd have less room at Haymitch's house. And less need. Heels, wigs, ball gowns...none of that would be needed in District 12.
Finally she had what she hoped was everything she needed packed up and sent off. With only a small suitcase, she headed back to the District 12 flat. Knowing they'd have a log wait ahead of them.
no subject
When they arrived home, Katniss had all but disappeared immediately. It concerned Haymitch, but he knew she was a big girl now. A big girl that needed checking up on occasion because she was an idiot sometimes, but a big girl none the less.
Haymitch led Effie to his Victor's house, pausing at the door, "...You're probably not going to like what you see."
no subject
The few times she had had cause to visit Haymitch's house...well, she had been happy for a shower afterwards.
But he was accepting her into his house as a guest, and she had to midn her manners.
"Ah...sorry. I'm sure...I can help."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
In which, haymitch is about as sensitive as a rock
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)