Wave 029
[Thoughts | Off-Network]
It's probably about time I showed some life on the Network again.
It's tempting to just keep laying low, though. Plenty of excuse for it, too--the mutts kept me busy, I got caught up in work, life's been busy since the unveiling of the cakepie, whatever. It's getting warm out again. I got tied up at the beach. It could be anything.
It's tempting, but I can't. People keep saying the chaos is over for the moment, things are getting back to normal again. Time to get back up again. Next month Katniss and Peeta have been here for a year; at the end of the month Cinna's opening his new salon. Are we settled here? Peeta keeps telling me it's okay to like it here, and some days I do, and other days I don't. There's a routine to it, a much easier one than back home. The Capitol's routines run you into the ground because they never stop--they just keep taking and taking and taking until there's nothing left, and then you're done, and they move on and find some new toy to keep them entertained from then on.
A whole year without the Games. Who could've imagined it? Even with this place's bad points, that alone is like a dream come true.
Is that it, now? Do we just settle in, one by one? Rue's already come to grips with it, but she's known all along that she's got nothing to go back to there. Cinna's setting himself up with a storefront now, and investors, and customers around the block waiting for his designs. No doubt he deserves it, either, but...it's weird. More permanent. Setting up a life here and making something of it. He's got a home, a business, Angela...
Then again, he's also got a suspicion that he's not going to have much to go back to. I don't know what Plutarch's got in mind, either--I only ever heard what I needed to know. As little as possible, really. How they'd signal us when the time came. What to do once we all got into the arena. I don't know what the plan is for the rest of them. I want to believe they'll get them all out, but there's no way of knowing.
The hard part is that I do know Snow. Enough to know he won't let a stunt like that mockingjay dress pass unanswered.
Almost eight months here for me. Half a year without Annie. And any minute I could go back and find myself back in the jungle, Peeta half dead on the ground, all my progress with Katniss lost. Any minute I could close my eyes and open them again in the arena, and Peeta wonders why I can't settle in.
We should tell them. But it wouldn't make it any easier, even if we did, and ignorance is bliss.
At least Angela's mostly taken care of. She won't stop asking questions, I know she won't, but it's as fixed as I can make it. She lets Cinna off the hook, they don't have all our secrets standing in the way of their thing, and when she does start pushing the boundaries of what she knows, at least she'll push them with me. At least then I can keep track of how much she knows and what she knows and what might get out. There's no stopping this place when it wants to spill secrets, but at least I can keep control of this much. It'll protect Katniss and Peeta and Rue, and it'll take the pressure off Cinna. And it'll let me handle it the way it needs to be handled.
And the only thing it cost is that now she's going to worry about me.
At least it's the full moon tomorrow night.
[/Thoughts]
• Three bags of white beach sand
• Nine and a half pounds of powdered milk flakes
• A white cap with blue brim from "Bubba's BBQ"
• Two pairs of tweezers, one standard, one jumbo-sized
• A sculpture of a building, constructed entirely of marshmallows
• A fuzzy pink wheel cover (for a car, I think) and matching dice
• A box of turquoise hair dye
• Four nine-volt batteries
• A tinsel halo headband
• A box of five thousand miniature rhinestones (assorted colors)
• A tube of crazy glue
• A frog in a bowl
...Okay, ladies, I have to admit, you've officially rendered me speechless. I mean, nothing shows you care like nine and a half pounds of powdered milk. I just wish I knew who you were, my anonymous admirers, so I could thank you in person! But really, thanks, I'm positively overwhelmed by your generosity. Just please stop asking my boss if he'll give them to me for you. Please.
And speaking of work, don't forget that we're still featuring our new and delicious cakepies down at the bakery! I personally recommend the cherry and chocolate variety, but they're all pretty amazing. And if you haven't tried them yet, trust me, you're missing out.
[OOC: Sob, Finnick, your popularity comes back to haunt you again. Feel free to claim one of his ridiculous gifts or offer him any of your own! Action is fine for anyone around the bakery; it'll be Network for everyone else.]
It's probably about time I showed some life on the Network again.
It's tempting to just keep laying low, though. Plenty of excuse for it, too--the mutts kept me busy, I got caught up in work, life's been busy since the unveiling of the cakepie, whatever. It's getting warm out again. I got tied up at the beach. It could be anything.
It's tempting, but I can't. People keep saying the chaos is over for the moment, things are getting back to normal again. Time to get back up again. Next month Katniss and Peeta have been here for a year; at the end of the month Cinna's opening his new salon. Are we settled here? Peeta keeps telling me it's okay to like it here, and some days I do, and other days I don't. There's a routine to it, a much easier one than back home. The Capitol's routines run you into the ground because they never stop--they just keep taking and taking and taking until there's nothing left, and then you're done, and they move on and find some new toy to keep them entertained from then on.
A whole year without the Games. Who could've imagined it? Even with this place's bad points, that alone is like a dream come true.
Is that it, now? Do we just settle in, one by one? Rue's already come to grips with it, but she's known all along that she's got nothing to go back to there. Cinna's setting himself up with a storefront now, and investors, and customers around the block waiting for his designs. No doubt he deserves it, either, but...it's weird. More permanent. Setting up a life here and making something of it. He's got a home, a business, Angela...
Then again, he's also got a suspicion that he's not going to have much to go back to. I don't know what Plutarch's got in mind, either--I only ever heard what I needed to know. As little as possible, really. How they'd signal us when the time came. What to do once we all got into the arena. I don't know what the plan is for the rest of them. I want to believe they'll get them all out, but there's no way of knowing.
The hard part is that I do know Snow. Enough to know he won't let a stunt like that mockingjay dress pass unanswered.
Almost eight months here for me. Half a year without Annie. And any minute I could go back and find myself back in the jungle, Peeta half dead on the ground, all my progress with Katniss lost. Any minute I could close my eyes and open them again in the arena, and Peeta wonders why I can't settle in.
We should tell them. But it wouldn't make it any easier, even if we did, and ignorance is bliss.
At least Angela's mostly taken care of. She won't stop asking questions, I know she won't, but it's as fixed as I can make it. She lets Cinna off the hook, they don't have all our secrets standing in the way of their thing, and when she does start pushing the boundaries of what she knows, at least she'll push them with me. At least then I can keep track of how much she knows and what she knows and what might get out. There's no stopping this place when it wants to spill secrets, but at least I can keep control of this much. It'll protect Katniss and Peeta and Rue, and it'll take the pressure off Cinna. And it'll let me handle it the way it needs to be handled.
And the only thing it cost is that now she's going to worry about me.
At least it's the full moon tomorrow night.
[/Thoughts]
• Three bags of white beach sand
• Nine and a half pounds of powdered milk flakes
• A white cap with blue brim from "Bubba's BBQ"
• Two pairs of tweezers, one standard, one jumbo-sized
• A sculpture of a building, constructed entirely of marshmallows
• A fuzzy pink wheel cover (for a car, I think) and matching dice
• A box of turquoise hair dye
• Four nine-volt batteries
• A tinsel halo headband
• A box of five thousand miniature rhinestones (assorted colors)
• A tube of crazy glue
• A frog in a bowl
...Okay, ladies, I have to admit, you've officially rendered me speechless. I mean, nothing shows you care like nine and a half pounds of powdered milk. I just wish I knew who you were, my anonymous admirers, so I could thank you in person! But really, thanks, I'm positively overwhelmed by your generosity. Just please stop asking my boss if he'll give them to me for you. Please.
And speaking of work, don't forget that we're still featuring our new and delicious cakepies down at the bakery! I personally recommend the cherry and chocolate variety, but they're all pretty amazing. And if you haven't tried them yet, trust me, you're missing out.
[OOC: Sob, Finnick, your popularity comes back to haunt you again. Feel free to claim one of his ridiculous gifts or offer him any of your own! Action is fine for anyone around the bakery; it'll be Network for everyone else.]