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HG: Golden Mean, Chapter Twenty - The Phantom Librarian
Spewing out too many words since November 2003
fernwithy
fernwithy
HG: Golden Mean, Chapter Twenty
The battle at the Cornucopia has ended, but Haymitch realizes, looking at the projected map of the arena in the viewing center, that Katniss's group is almost on top of the forcefield... and Peeta is about to connect with it with a steel knife.



Chapter Twenty
Katniss screams just a fraction of a second before Peeta brings his knife down in an arc against the vines. A sound like a whip breaks through the air, and he is thrown backward like a rag doll, flying through the air and landing hard on the ground. Finnick and Mags are toppled over along with him.

"Peeta?" Katniss runs to him, grabs him. "Peeta!" She flutters her hands over his lips, her breathing becoming sharper and sharper, then presses her head against his chest. She sits up, gasping, shaking him. "PEETA! PEETA!" She slaps his face. He doesn't respond.

I want to yell, but my throat is frozen. I get to my feet. I can't look away. I never should have let him go into the arena. I should have forced him to let me go in.

On screen, Claudius is now taking up a corner, looking giddy. In the opposite corner, Ruth Everdeen, pale and shaky, says, "It's not too late. If someone knows how to start his heart, it's not too late..."

As if in answer, Finnick bends down beside Peeta and says, "Let me." He pinches Peeta's nostrils shut.

Katniss screams "No!", running at Finnick as she tried to run at the doctors on the hovercraft last year. He shoves her aside without even making an effort, then bends over Peeta and starts breathing into his mouth, pushing down on his chest in an even rhythm. Ruth is nodding in her corner, but not saying anything, so her feed is cut.

"Interesting!" Claudius says. "This is an old technique, sometimes still used in the districts. In District Four, where water accidents are common, it is taught at a young age. But why would Finnick Odair save a competitor?"

Katniss sits at the base of a tree, shivering, an arrow pointed at Finnick's back. As I watch, the arrow droops, falls, and Katniss leans forward, a kind of desperate hope on her face that I know is mirrored in mine. I've seen this technique before, but not often, and I've never seen it work.

With a choked sounding cough, Peeta stirs. I can't cheer, but Harris Greaves and Jack Anderson do. Toffilis claps my shoulder. The strength goes out of my legs, and I sink down into my chair. Katniss drops her weapons and runs to him, brushing his hair with her fingers, crying. "Peeta?"

"Careful," he says. "There's a forcefield up ahead."

For the first time in all the years I've been mentoring, laughter sweeps through the viewing center. It is shaky and scared, and a lot of the mentors not in on our little conspiracy look confused, but it's real. The Capitol attendants look uncomfortable. I can't quite hear the quiet conversation Peeta and Katniss are having. The camera focuses on Finnick, who is smiling slightly. He looks exhausted, but there is something else on his face -- recognition. It takes me a minute to understand, then I realize that he must have thought it was all an act. I'd guess most of the victors do. We're a cynical bunch. Katniss did, for that matter, and so did I until I saw her crashing into the windows of the operating room last year. I know she's not that good an actress. This is Finnick's first realization that he's dealing with a real girl who is really in love with this boy. Looking around the viewing center, I'm guessing that he's not the only one noticing it.

Which puts them a few steps ahead of Katniss, but she has time.

Katniss is crying uncontrollably. Mags hands her moss to clean her face. Finnick blames it on her fictional pregnancy hormones, and tells everyone that they need to keep going.

"No, he has to rest," Katniss says, stroking Peeta's face. Her eyes go down to a glint of gold on his chest. "Is this your token?"

"Yes. Do you mind that I used your mockingjay? I wanted us to match."

The camera closes in. He is wearing a golden disk with the mockingjay design etched in it. Not hard to get in the Capitol, and I'm sure Effie didn't think twice when he asked for it. I don't know if Peeta knows what the sign means, if Katniss has told him anything. He understands the narrative he's working -- keep them together -- but whether or not he understands the larger narrative he's just solidified in the districts... that I don't know.

Snow will assume he does, though.

Finnick offers to set up camp where they are, but Peeta says he can go on, as long as it's slowly. Then Finnick points out something that I didn't notice at all, not in any meaningful way: "You knew that forcefield was there, didn't you? Right at the last second? You started to give a warning. How did you know?"

"Ah," Claudius says. "An astute observation from Finnick Odair. How did Katniss Everdeen sense the presence of the forcefield that marks the edge of the arena? It is invisible, to create the illusion of a continuous sky..."

He goes on to describe the properties of the forcefield, while Katniss makes up one of her more ridiculous lies, involving super hearing in the ear that was repaired last year. I look at the map of the arena, rewind my viewscreen a little to the point where Peeta hit it. It is a tight arc, and there is no between it and land's end, as there was in my arena.

My arena.

Of course.

For the Quell, they decided to pay me back for my insolence. I used the forcefield as a weapon. Now, they've weaponized it as well. This year, it's part of the Games.

Since my little alliance has moved on to what the Capitol considers dull -- searching for drinkable water -- coverage on the big screen moves to the others. Sponsors for One and Two have been tapped to send them water, and they are now engaged in planning.

"Everdeen and Mellark went off with Odair," Gloss says, drawing a circle in the mud and making an arrow in the direction he seems to think they went.

"Let's go for them," Cashmere says. "They have Mags with them, too, and she'll slow them down. And those twelves that District Twelve got were a joke."

Enobaria shakes her head. "Maybe a joke to get perfect marks, but they're not weak."

Brutus snorts. "She's not. But I told Haymitch last year -- if she doesn't get that rock off her apron strings, he'll kill her."

"Yeah, I remember you saying that." Enobaria counters. "But in case you didn't notice, it was the pair of them that got out of the arena last year, not your little golden boy."

"No credit to Mellark on that."

"Yeah, right. She was totally frozen until he told her where to shoot."

"Which wouldn't have been a problem if Cato wasn't holding him hostage at the time. She'd have shot him in the head and gone home without freezing all night."

"I'm not into human shields," Gloss says. "I'd rather just fight it out. But with Odair allied with them, they're strong. And if I know Mason, she'll be trying to regroup with Odair. We should find her before she does."

For the first time in four hours, I feel like I have the luxury to tune out. Career conversations are always the same -- who should we kill first, who should we save to kill last, and, if they're feeling particularly chipper, which of them will kill which of the others of them and win the Games.

"What are we going to do about water?" Harris asks me, nodding at his screen, where Katniss has climbed yet another tree to have a look around. For some reason, she shoots an arrow into the sky.

"Do you want to send some?" I ask.

"Not if we can help it. Any idea where Plutarch's got it hidden?"

"Normally I wouldn't share," Toffilis says from the District Eleven table, "but I'm under strict instructions from my tributes. Consider it a long-distance alliance." He turns his remaining viewscreen.

Chaff and Earl have been occupying themselves building a shelter. I'm not sure they did it, but somehow, they managed to break one of the thinner trees. Water is bubbling up from the stump, and they are drinking from it as gratefully as they might drink from a fountain in the Capitol. As we watch, the source dries up. Toffilis shrugs. "Well, that's where it is, anyway."

"But it won't last if they kill the trees," I say. "So there's got to be another way."

I think about it as the Games play out on thirteen screens around me. I don't know how much time has passed.

My phone rings. I look over my shoulder and realize that Effie is still not back. I frown and pick up. It is Julian Day, the singer who's sponsoring Katniss and Peeta. He wants to know if I'm going to send them water. "I'll send a whole barrel, my friend," he says. "Just name the price."

"They'd be trapped by a barrel," I say. "But thanks. I'm trying to think of something else. Something they can take with them."

"Well, you know... whatever you need. I put what we talked about in your funds this morning, and if it costs more, just call. And you tell Primrose Everdeen that I said hello."

I promise to do so, having no more intention of keeping it than I have of allowing Katniss and Peeta to die for each other. I check my funds. All of my arranged sponsors have come through. The question is what I need to buy.

"A saw, maybe?" Harris asks.

I check the sponsor gift list. "No weapons. I guess they don't want someone sending Finnick extra tridents."

"I think they put enough of those in the Cornucopia. Unfortunately, I don't think it'll help to spear a tree. Maybe Peeta could saw it with that knife?"

"No. If they have to knock a tree down every time they drink, it'll be pretty easy for One and Two to find them. There's got to be another way." My mind sticks on the idea of spearing the tree. Something about it is trying to come together in my head. An image of Digger in the woods comes to me. Digger with a hammer. Digger...

Harris is waiting. Finally he says, "Haymitch, come on. We have to think of something."

"I am thinking of something," I say. Digger in the snow. Laughing.

"What?"

"My girl."

"Right now? Really?"

I frown. "I'm trying to remember something about spearing trees."

"And this is about Effie?"

"About... what?"

"You said your girl."

"You watch too much television," I tell him. Digger in the spring snow. Laughing because... because it was better than bakery sugar, and we didn't have to pay for it. I put my hand on my forehead and grab the gift list again. What I need isn't there, which means it's going to cost time and a lot of money, but I think it's worth it. I turn to Harris and hand him the control key to my sponsor funds. We're allies. I'm pretty sure it's allowed. "Keep an eye on my kids. Send them help if they get hurt. I have to talk to Plutarch."

He nods, and I run up to the Capitol control desk. "Meeting with the Gamemakers," I say. "Now."

This request must be honored. The attendant presses a button that rings somewhere up in the control room, then says, "Haymitch Abernathy of Twelve."

"Send him up," Plutarch says.

I take the elevator up to the penthouse, where the Games technicians work like the demented little ants they are, and the Gamemakers observe and direct.

When I get out of the elevator, Plutarch motions me over to the elevated platform where the Gamemakers are gathered around a miniature holographic projection of the arena. I can see the various dots of light that represent the tributes, all tagged with their district numbers and their genders. One of Plutarch's underlings taps the District Five Female and an order goes out to the techs to do something to keep her interesting.

"Was that necessary?" Plutarch asks.

The younger man shrugs. "She doesn't have any allies. No one to talk to. Kind of boring if nothing happens. Should I go for the one from Six, too?"

"Wait for the first one to work before you go for a second." Plutarch looks at me. "Newcomers. They need to learn."

"I need a spile," I say.

"A what?"

"A spile. The kind of thing you use to get sap out of trees to make syrup."

Plutarch looks completely confused. "What kind of syrup?"

"What?"

"What syrup comes from trees?"

"Maple," I answer without thinking. "And it doesn't matter. I don't need syrup. I just need the tap for the trees."

"Something like that would need to be imported from the districts," a young woman says. "Can they be obtained in your own district?"

"Try Mellark's Hardware," I say. "You might even get a discount, considering."

"An imported specialty item that will need to be flown to the supply hovercraft will be quite expensive," a third Gamemaker says.

"Money, I've got," I say. "All of my sponsors came through."

The young woman scans my sponsor list ostentatiously and says, "Well, this should about cover an item like that. Right Plutarch?"

Plutarch gives me a frustrated look -- I am not supposed to be ordering off script, but I have no idea how long he plans for this to go on -- then says, "Yes. We can do it for this. But it'll leave you broke."

"I'm usually broke," I say, and don't mention that I'm sure I'll get more calls, and I have a moody teenage boy with a crush on Prim waiting in the wings to send something else... not to mention Plutarch's fake funds for anything that's already up there.

"It'll also take a few hours."

"Hours, I may be short on."

Plutarch glowers at me, then says, "I need to confer with Mr. Abernathy about his request." He stands and gestures to a side room.

I go in ahead of him, and hear the door slam.

"You want me to go after toys from Twelve in the middle of this?" he says, loudly enough that I know the room is soundproof and unbugged.

"Dying of thirst isn't a game," I say. "At least not on my side of the aisle."

"I have water in the hovercraft."

"Which leaves bottles, which may as well be a trail of breadcrumbs for Brutus." I sit down at a table. "You knew what was in the arena. Why didn't you have tools ready?"

"Well, I... I assumed they would cut the trees."

"You honestly had no idea what a spile was until I told you, did you?"

"I still don't, Haymitch. Are we talking about something that could be a weapon?"

"If you get close enough to jab it in someone's eye, I guess, but they'd do better to snap a branch off a tree."

"Fine. I'll put in a call to the hardware store. I assume the name is not a coincidence?"

"Not even a little one."

"If you're passing messages, it's a pretty dangerous time for it."

"No messages. I'm just trying to get them water. If Ed doesn't know what it is, tell him old Fisher will have had some."

"All right. I'll get it for you."

"One more thing."

He turns, and I see a flare of impatience in his eyes. "What?"

"What happened to Cinna this morning?"

"What do you mean?" He shakes his head, genuinely confused. "What happened?"

"Portia said there was an accident, and he's dead. What happened?"

"I have no idea. And at the moment, I'm in pretty delicate negotiations with certain people, and I don't have time to find out. It'll have to wait until after."

"No one has done more than Cinna for this."

"And he'd be the last one to want us to pull back now!" Plutarch presses his thumb on a scanner in the table, and a drawer pops open. He pulls out a sketchbook. "Cinna gave me this before the interviews yesterday. He knew something might happen." He opens it to a picture of Katniss as the mockingjay. "It's for her, when she takes over. And he wants me to make sure she has her preps. I have Fulvia on that now. He thought of a lot, Haymitch. And he wouldn't want us wasting time right now when there's no chance of changing anything."

I can't argue. I hate that I can't argue. "What the hell are we turning into, Plutarch?"

"An army," he answers. "Now get back to your tributes. I'll get them your little toy."

I know a dismissal when I hear one, even from my own side, and I walk out. I think about the sketchbook, of Katniss, standing proud in her uniform. I know she'll love it. And I hate all of us -- myself included -- for turning her into this.

When I leave the elevator, the main broadcast has returned to Katniss, who's hunting for food and water both. She shoots an extremely ugly animal, then touches its nose and starts circling around its tree. Back at the camp that Finnick is building, Peeta and Mags are peeling some kind of nuts and trying to have a conversation. She has given up on trying to talk, because only Finnick understands her. Instead, she's gesturing to Peeta to continue a story he's telling about a wild party that his wrestling team had up in the park. He is describing the logs on the ground. Mags mimes a log with her hands, then looks up to see if she's hearing him right.

"Yeah," he says. "And of course, I 'm an idiot. I go up and stand on it at the top of the hill, and of course it just rolls over..."

Mag makes a show of falling backward, then rolls her hands around each other to indicate falling down a hill. Peeta laughs and nods. She claps and laughs boisterously.

"I half want to sponsor him," Toffilis says when I come down. "Nice kid."

Which about sums up Peeta's sponsors. None of them are gamblers. All of them just like him.

"Is Effie back yet?" I ask, sitting down. Harris is on my phone with a sponsor.

"Haven't seen hide nor hair of her since she left," Toffilis says. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

I nod. Paperwork in the Capitol can take a long time, but I still don't like it. She doesn't carry a personal communication device, so I can't just call, and I can't leave. I go through my sponsor papers, and as soon as Harris is off the line, I dial Aurelian's number. He answers right away. "Yeah?"

"Haymitch Abernathy," I say. "I used your money. You won't see what they're getting until later, though. It'll take a little while to get there."

"That's great! Will it help them with water?"

"It'll get them what they need. Look, could I ask you a favor?"

"Me? Really?"

"I'm kind of trapped here," I say. "And I need to get in touch with Effie Trinket. She was supposed to be at the Justice Building, taking care of a few things. Could you find her and ask her to get back as soon as she can?"

Aurelian agrees right away, sounding thrilled to have a job. It's the best I can do right now.

The kids and Finnick and Mags have decided to use the forcefield to cook the rodent Katniss shot. I find this satisfying -- they can't be caught by surprise again, and have turned Plutarch's trick around on him.

The Gamemakers' trick, I remind myself. Seneca Crane probably had as much to do with it, and Plutarch's on our side.

I wonder about our side sometimes.

Coverage moves to Johanna's group, which is camping about halfway up the slope from the beach to the forcefield. Johanna, unknowingly mimicking Katniss (she would stop immediately if she knew), has climbed a tree, and is looking for water on the underside of a leaf. She pulls the leaf, stares at it like it might reveal its potential toxicity if she threatens it enough, then drops it and watches it float to the ground.

On the ground, Beetee is trying to squeeze water out of mud. He's managed a thin trickle, which he gives to Wiress. Blight is sleeping.

Johanna jumps down from one of the tree's lower branches and says, "I don't see anything but the saltwater. Can we desalinate?"

"Do we have anything plastic or waterproof? We could make a rudimentary still by digging a hole and letting the sun heat it to condense the water and--"

"That sounds like it'll take longer than we have," Johanna grumbles, and turns to Wiress. "Hey, Nuts, can you whip up something magic?"

Wiress shakes her head. She is staring out at the beach between the trees.

"Great," Johanna says. "Maybe Jack will send us something."

Beetee gives her an irritated look. "Or maybe Haymitch or Toffy will send something to their tributes. They're our allies, aren't they?"

"Yeah. But I have no idea where they are."

Of course, this is the occasion for Claudius to put up a graphic showing that they are only about a quarter of a mile away. He's smiling when they cut back to the studio. "It seems our alliances may join up. That would be half of the remaining tributes in an alliance. What will happen in the endgame? Let's hear predictions on the street!"

Again, the street interviews backfire. Girls in fake braids are crying that Peeta almost died. A man who has two teenage daughters with him is just watching in shock. One of Enobaria's fans manages to come up with a hopeful start, that she's going to wipe out the other Careers and then hunt down everyone else, but he trails off, maybe realizing that she's badly outnumbered. A group of girls in short skirts and heavy make-up are wearing tee shirts with Finnick's face on them, and they seem excited that he saved Peeta and is helping Katniss, but when asked how he'll defeat them in the end, they just seem confused and sad. A solitary old man wants Mags to go in with her slingshot and "Kill that dirty bastard from District Two, just like she did those bad actors in her Games. I remember you, honey! You kick 'em where it hurts!"

"Oh, how nice for Mags!"

I look over my shoulder and see Effie. I have never been happier to have her in my line of vision. "Where the hell have you been?" I ask.

"Oh, it's terrible," she says. "I signed the papers, but they say Portia has to be quarantined for two days before I can bring her to her own apartment. It's ridiculous. I've been sitting with her and watching the Games in her cell. But that nice young man said you needed me here."

"Well, yeah," I say. "I need you to stay."

"I'll have to go home to sleep..."

"No. You won't. Stay here, Effie."

She looks at me oddly, then sits down beside me and answers the ringing phone. I give her a pat on the shoulder and return my attention to the Games.

"Our tributes are certainly loved this year," Claudius says cheerfully when they cut back to him. "Let's see what's happening in the districts!"

The next hour of coverage is spent visiting the home districts of the remaining tributes. In District One, Gloss and Cashmere's mother looks shell-shocked, and their father is speaking in a quiet monotone when asked about their chances. Friends are interviewed. Gloss's weeping girlfriend says she can't do without either one of them.

In Two, there is the usual fierce gathering in the square, rooting for their tributes, or at least rooting against Katniss (they still hate her because of Clove and Cato). In Three, quiet groups of engineers are watching together, looking like people waiting to be executed. Not much is shown, and it isn't in the square, so I assume the rebels have taken the center of town.

The report from Four is actively claustrophobic, conducted inside a small house. I am disturbed to see Annie there. She should have been on a boat and headed away from the shore by now. She doesn't talk. The reporter claims that the explosions we hear outside are firecrackers being set off in celebration of Finnick and Mags. Five is grim, Six is... unsurprised. They couldn't have been holding out much hope for Paulin, and I doubt they're wasting much worry on Berenice, either. They report from a paper mill in Seven. There is no one left from Eight or Nine. In Ten, Earl's grandchildren are interviewed on a ranch. They are sad to have lost "Aunty Kate." In Eleven, they interview only the Peacekeepers. I wonder if they're really in Eleven at all.

In Twelve, they've herded the Mellarks into Katniss's house, and they're being interviewed along with the Everdeens in the kitchen, sitting around the fireplace. Peeta's brothers aren't there. Jonadab isn't shown, but they do cut to Ed in his store. He says he has a special order that he has to work on. They talk to Delly Cartwright instead. She says she's glad Peeta and Katniss have such nice people around them as Finnick and Mags, and she hopes Johanna gets the others there soon. Ed finds what he's looking for -- which better be a spile -- and she offers to pack it up. He shows the reporters a painting Peeta did of the three Mellark boys as children. "Jonadab and I were idiots," he says. "Don't know how Peeta turned out decent."

They apologize profusely that they can't dig up Katniss's dear, handsome cousin, who is working in the mines, but they scare up Hazelle from somewhere. She is duly introduced as my "former housekeeper," though she is being interviewed in my extremely clean living room in front of a vase full of fresh flowers, and asked what she thinks I'm doing for them now.

"If I know Haymitch, it will be something very clever," she says. "And Katniss can figure out what to do until it comes through. We love her, and we want her back. Peeta, too," she adds quickly.

Claudius returns, now with historical experts explaining why last year's dual victory cannot be allowed to happen again. There are dire warnings about forgetting the Dark Days. Then he brings on some gamblers. The tributes must not be doing anything interesting. On my screen, Katniss and Peeta are just eating and talking with Finnick and Mags, though their voices are pretty raspy. It looks like Chaff and Earl have found some stones, and are playing checkers.

They finally cut to the arena, where the tributes from Two have gotten a dinner big enough to share with their allies, apparently as a reward for slaughtering their friends at the Cornucopia.

Then the anthem begins, and we see the line of fallen tributes.

I can't watch. I turn my chair around, and Effie puts her arm across my shoulders and says a lot of comforting nothing, which is what she's done every year when my tributes have been up there. I squeeze her hand and wait for the music to end.

"Oh, Haymitch, they're back," she says. "And there's a parachute!"

I turn back to the screen. The parachute falls gently to the ground. Finnick suggests that Peeta can claim it, since he died earlier.

They find the spile, and I start to doubt my cleverness.

Not one of them has the slightest idea what it is.
11 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
From: (Anonymous) Date: February 3rd, 2013 03:21 pm (UTC) (Link)

Still Puzzled

OK, maybe this is because I haven't actually read "The Hunger Games," but I still don't quite understand why Haymitch's stunt with the forcefield got the Capitol so tied up in knots, apart from the fact that the Capitol is overly sensitive and have hair trigger reflexes when it comes to looking for potential rebellion.

Could someone explain it to me?

Sara Libby

PS: I love that you have a Justin Bieber character with a crush on Prim.

And I really enjoyed Aurelian's little gang. We all have cultural obsessions (be they books, movies, pop stars, etc.) that can have quite deep and even meaningful resonances in our lives, although not everyone is reflective enough to consciously understand what is going on.

When I was in my early teens, I had a huge crush on a soap-opera character. Because he was literary, and referenced them in his story line, I read Edna St. Vincent Millay, William Butler Yeats, Cyrano de Bergerac, and Hamlet.
From: (Anonymous) Date: February 3rd, 2013 06:46 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: Still Puzzled

I think in regards to the Capitol it really is that simple: there can be no hope. No outsmarting. No free thinking. When Haymitch thought outside the box and then turned the fence into a weapon, it could have sparked something (but didn't, to our knowledge). It had to be tamped down. And then of course (I don't think this is canon but I always get so muddled because it could be in Fern's stories) they use the real fence and his girl to remind him he has no power; he got out of the Arena but all of Panem is an arena. Even for Capitol citizens like Cinna.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: February 3rd, 2013 07:13 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: Still Puzzled

This. Snow's hair-trigger response to anything that doesn't go by his plans is part of what makes the rebellion happen in the first place. If he hadn't tried to force Katniss and Peeta to fight each other, there would never have been an act of defiance. The idea that they manipulated the law to go with a popular storytime would have most likely just been accepted, and maybe the outlying districts would have hated Katniss instead of loving her. But no -- there can be no getting around the Capitol's plans allowed. On Haymitch's forcefield, I think there's also a serious overreaction with his family and his girl being killed (the fence idea was mine, but however they did it, it was a response). He showed himself smarter than Snow's smartest people, and didn't play by the rules. Someone brighter than Snow would have said, "Huh, this guy's clever. We should bring him to the Capitol, treat him like a king, and make sure he never does anything to bring us down." But, well... Snow.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: February 3rd, 2013 07:15 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: Still Puzzled

I think the power of story is something the Capitol never took into account when they turned the Games into an entertainment spectacle (which is part of Collins' theme, I think).
From: (Anonymous) Date: February 3rd, 2013 07:20 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: Still Puzzled

OK, that does help to focus the situation for me. Thanks a lot.

Sara Libby

PS: I also liked seeing an old fan of Mags in the street interviews. Plus, nice to see that Earl Bates got to have a normal life, like Cecelia did. Glad he got to enjoy it longer too.
shortysc22 From: shortysc22 Date: February 3rd, 2013 03:29 pm (UTC) (Link)
Once again, I love the insight into the Capitol and of course what goes on behind the scenes of the Games. It's interesting hearing from the families again here and also how Haymitch thought to send the spile in the first place.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: February 3rd, 2013 07:17 pm (UTC) (Link)
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that Haymitch can't have trusted Plutarch much, if he sent something long-term like that.
torturedbabycow From: torturedbabycow Date: February 3rd, 2013 06:28 pm (UTC) (Link)
For some reason, I especially loved the image of Johanna threatening the leaf. The solitary old mad rooting for Mags was also weirdly heartwarming, giving that he's still cheering for murder and all.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: February 3rd, 2013 07:18 pm (UTC) (Link)
He's probably been in her fan club from the start, poor old guy.

I think Johanna has gotten into a habit of thinking everything should be threatened by her at all times, otherwise, it might kill her.
aerrin From: aerrin Date: February 4th, 2013 01:46 pm (UTC) (Link)
"What the hell are we turning into, Plutarch?"

"An army," he answers.


Looove this line! It fits so nicely with a lot of the questioning that goes on in Mockingjay. Really enjoying this a lot!
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: February 4th, 2013 11:15 pm (UTC) (Link)
That's one of the things I was impressed with in Mockingjay -- after all of the talk in the first two books about the nobility of rebellion, it gets into the nitty gritty reality of the country being in an all out war, and it's not pretty.
11 comments or Leave a comment