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Repost: The Golden Mean, Chapter 21 - The Phantom Librarian
Spewing out too many words since November 2003
Repost: The Golden Mean, Chapter 21
I decided I'd been skimming too much of the arena action from the book, so I added detail in the escape from the fog, and I also decided that Plutarch's message to Haymitch about the bread made no internal sense, so I changed that to Plutarch looking for a way to get a message in about the rescue (Haymitch doesn't get it yet, and obviously, the future scene about it will change).

Chapter Twenty-One
They pass the spile around, staring at it dumbly. Peeta tries using it as a whistle, because apparently, he thinks I want him to attract the attention of everyone in the arena. Finnick sticks it on his finger and takes a few tentative jabs before deciding that it's probably not a weapon. Katniss (who, of all of them, ought to know) asks Mags if they can fish with it, then rolls it back and forth and stares at it, looking puzzled.

"Come on, Sweetheart," I say. "You can do it."

But she can't. She gives up in frustration and lies down, letting Peeta rub her back. He looks like he'd be happy to spend the rest of the Games doing just that. Finnick smiles. Mags, much more practical, goes back to the bowl of nuts and rodent meat she'd been eating.

I get the book back out, figuring I'll have to send them water after all, then suddenly, I hear, "A spile!"

I look up. Katniss has sat upright, and she's holding the spile triumphantly. Once she tells them what it is, it takes them about two seconds to realize the water is in the trees and they can get to it.

Jack Anderson stands up at the District Seven table and yells, "Let's hear it for Haymitch!"

I take a sarcastic bow as the other mentors hoot and holler, and start trying to figure out how to get spiles to their own tributes.

Once they've managed to successfully tap a tree, coverage returns to Johanna, who is becoming desperate enough to try Beetee's idea for a desalinating still, though he says it's too late and the leaves she wants to use aren't going to provide a tight enough seal.

"Do you need some sleep?" Effie asks me. "You're looking a little worn out."

"Hey, not fair," Toffy says beside me. "The rest of our escorts left after the interviews!"

I look around. I hadn't even noticed. I know that a lot of the current crop of escorts has been somewhat less involved in the Games than they once were, but there are usually at least a few in the Viewing Center on the first day. "Where are they?"

Toffy shrugs. "Chaff made Veronica go home after the parade. Said he's been around long enough not to need coaching. I've had her out looking for sponsors."

"You've all got lousy escorts," I say.

"Nah, you've just got the best in the Games."

Effie blushes. "Oh, no, I --"

"I know I do," I say.

She looks away shyly.

Harris raises his eyebrows. "Well," he says, "the rest of us usually have district partners. So, Effie's… more like your district partner, right?"

The only person I ever called my district partner really was Maysilee Donner, who was nothing at all like Effie, but I nod. It's closer than whatever Harris was thinking before. "That sound right to you, Effie?"

She looks up briefly, and her eyes flutter over my face. "Why not?" she says. "Effie Trinket, District Twelve." With a fluttery smile, she turns to Toffy, "Anyway, we can all spell each other here, if anyone needs sleep. We're all allies now." She nods at the screen, then looks at me. "So, do you need rest?"

"Effie, you've been up all day, too," I say.

"Yes, but I got some sleep last night. I have a feeling you didn't."

I try not to tell Effie things like that, but I can't argue. Katniss and Peeta have had food and water, Finnick has built them a shelter, and they have enough people to keep up a guard. I can't do anything for Johanna until she joins the alliance. I nod. "I could use a couple of hours, but you send someone for me if anything happens."

She nods impatiently and answers the ringing phone. I go to the lounge.

There are twelve curtained beds set up, and a long table piled with quick finger food. I grab a sandwich and a beer and eat at a dark little table in the corner. An attendant comes through the door shyly and hands me an envelope. "From the Gamemakers," she says.

"Thanks," I tell her.

She bites her lower lip, looks around anxiously, then says, "I'm supposed to not have favorites while I'm working, but I love Peeta, and I just know you'll save him!" She scurries away without waiting for an answer to this declaration. I don't really have one, anyway.

I go to one of the curtained beds, light the sign that says it's occupied, and crawl in, barely remembering to kick off my shoes. Before I drift off, I open Plutarch's note. It says, You are reminded that messages to tributes are prohibited in the arena, even if the hour is late. Your tributes should be aware of the risks.

Great. Plutarch wants me to tell Katniss what time it is. Or something. He seems to think I have magical powers to transmit information that he forgot to share with our allies. I have no idea what he needs, and I'm too tired to think it through.

I throw the message out. I'm asleep before I can even pull up the covers.

I dream in disconnected images. Katniss shooting at the sky. Digger laughing in the snow. Peeta playing with his niece. My mother coming home tired from the mines and still finding the energy to play games with Lacklen and me. My clever little boy, she used to call me, especially if I'd figured out a way to fix something in our house, or to stretch the little bit of food we had, or to escape the elaborate traps Lacklen and I built for each other. I settle into a deeper dream of this, a pleasant one, for once, where I'm Rhona Abernathy's clever boy, and the worst thing that's happened is a pretty older girl named Hazelle making fun of me for reading poems. My mother tells me girls only tease boys they like. I know even then that this is a lie, but it's a kind lie, and I don't mind it.

I'm sure that it would have turned into a nightmare, probably about the big, sturdy house I traded her life and Lacklen's and Digger's for, but before that happens, someone rips open the curtains of my bed. I take a swing, and it's lucky that I don't have my knife, because I connect with Toffy Taggart's neck.

"Jack Anderson said to get you," he says, pulling away and rubbing the spot I hit. "Blight's dead. Blood rain. It's moving towards your team."

Blight's dead. Just like that. Blight. Ollie Hedge, who once saved Gia Pepper's life, who snuck in a donation toward Finnick's trident by pretending to buy a fish. Dead. Blood rain. They once doused him in blood to try and scare up Gia's hiding place. He once made a rash and dangerous alliance with the out-district raiders. He thinks I'm an idiot about Effie.

Blight's dead.

I rub my eyes and sit up. "Right. Thanks. And sorry about..." I gesture at his neck.

He shrugs. "I should know better than surprising a victor. I broke my sister's cheekbone the first time she woke me up after I got home." With that, he shoves me out of the way and takes over the bed.

I go back out to the Viewing Center. On screen, Johanna is brushing furiously at her face, but it's useless. She's drenched in gore. The scene is shot with heat sensors, giving everything a surreal look. Wiress is clinging to Beetee, who is unconscious. Jack grabs me. "Can you think of anything?" he asks.

I look at it and shake my head. "Not a thing. Is it drowning them? What happened to Blight?"

"He ran into the forcefield to get away from it. It's not hurting them!"

I don't answer this, because Jack needs to get it out of his system, but of course, the point of something like that isn't to directly hurt anyone. When you're being showered with blood, atavistic instinct takes over. Mind games. Jack knows it. I know it.

Suddenly, the rain stops. It doesn't dribble out, the way real rain does. It just stops. There is one final crash as the last of it falls to the ground, and then it is over. The heat sensor cameras go off and the scene is lit by the bright moonlight. Johanna looks around, her eyes round and very white in her red-stained face.

The coverage goes to Katniss, who is on guard at the camp. She looks up and frowns at something, then tenses and wrinkles her nose. I see what looks like a light ground fog rolling in, but I don't for a second imagine that it's just a mist. Not in the arena. Not when the rain that fell was blood.

I ignored Plutarch's instruction to send them a warning. I don't know what warning I could have sent, but they're all sleeping now, and whatever this is, it's creeping up.

Katniss's eyes go wide, and the camera focuses on her hand, where the fog has brushed. It's red, and blisters are rising.

She doesn't need any help from me. She makes a snap decision and runs to Finnick first -- it makes sense, and if they get out of whatever this is, I'm sending her a present. Mags doesn't hear well and Peeta is still groggy from the afternoon, but Finnick is sharp and ready.

"Ah," Claudius says. "Looks like another late night surprise. Will Katniss Everdeen and Finnick Odair be able to rouse their companions?"

They're certainly giving it a try. Finnick gathers Mags in his arms and picks her up. Katniss yanks Peeta to his feet and pulls him along.

"What the hell is that?" Harris asks.

"Let's hope they move more quickly," Claudius says. "This fog is laced with nerve agents... ah, yes, we can see here, where Peeta Mellark has fallen, his facial muscles seem to be affected... Finnick Odair is blistering... Katniss Everdeen seems lame in one leg... Is this the end of our power alliance?"

"Will someone shut him up?" Harris Greaves whispers. "Please."

No one does. Blood rain. Nerve gas. This arena isn't just set up for the tributes to kill each other. All arenas have some Gamemaker traps, but this one is one big trap. Plutarch told us it was deadly.

I wonder again when he really knew who the tributes would be. This thing isn't set up for scared teenagers who have no loyalties to each other. It's set up to kill trained killers, and to do it no matter what they do.

We watch them stumbling through the woods. Katniss could escape the fog line easily by climbing, but she's trying to help Peeta. Finnick is carrying Mags, but I can see him flagging. He comes back to help Katniss haul Peeta, but it's no good. "I'll have to carry him," he says. "Can you take Mags?"

Effie grabs my hand. "Haymitch, Katniss isn't walking properly. And she's not that strong."

"I know," I say, watching, unable to help as Katniss stumbles through the jungle, trying valiantly to carry Mags. They're heading for the beach, but Katniss is beginning to crumble, no matter how easy Mags tries to make it for her. Finnick runs back with Peeta on his back.

Katniss, looking ashamed, says, "It's no use. Can you take them both? I'll catch up."

But Finnick can't. His arms are starting to twitch from the gas. It's all he can do to hold on to Peeta. I see Peeta start to tell him to put him down, but instead Finnick says, "I'm sorry, Mags. I can't do it."

Mags smiles and gives him a kiss, then looks fondly at Katniss and Peeta.

Then walks directly into the gas.

The coverage returns to Claudius, who looks utterly baffled. "This is... Mags Donovan must have been affected mentally by the nerve gas... she... forgot... or didn't realize..."

But nothing he says can erase what the entire nation has just seen: One tribute has sacrificed her life, of her own free will, to give others the chance to escape.

When they return, he does his best to portray that escape as somehow cold -- the narration implies that Finnick and Katniss have "abandoned" Mags to the fog -- but he can't do it. They are struggling away from the fog, lurching through the woods, finally stumbling down a slight slope. Finnick falls and Peeta falls on top of him. Katniss crawls over to them and looks up, and I can see that she's waiting to be overtaken.

But here, the camera has pulled back. I see it a second before Katniss does, the way the fog stops in a line, rising up into the night. They've somehow made it behind its reach, or maybe each disaster is only supposed to claim one tribute (after all, they wouldn't want to skimp on the murders by murdering everyone remotely). Maybe Plutarch has just decided to turn it off for reasons of his own. Whatever the reason, although Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick are all helpless, the fog stops and is pulled up into the sky. Katniss makes a noise. Peeta rolls off of Finnick and raises his arm weakly at the trees, where some kind of animal -- undoubtedly a mutt, though it's quiescent now -- is waiting. Katniss nods. If the animals aren't running, the fog is definitely over.

The three of them all manage to crawl down to the beach. I'm not sure why. It's open, and a great place for the careers to ambush them, but I guess they're acting on impulse. Finnick's would be to reach water. Katniss's is to protect Peeta. Peeta? I can't always read him as well, but my guess is that, after that escape, he's decided to go with Finnick's plan.

Unfortunately, Finnick doesn't make it. He collapses before he reaches the water, and Claudius begins a long and gleeful explanation of just what the poison is doing to their bodies. They're apparently in pain, unable to move a lot of muscles, dealing with sensory failures. "But there's a secret!" he says, as Katniss suddenly yelps.

The water has lapped up against her hand, and she acts like it's acid, pulling away as quickly as she can.

Then she frowns and puts her hand back in.

"And Katniss Everdeen may squeak through again!" Claudius says. "The poison is soluble in salt water, and, if she has the courage to go under, she can purge herself of its effects!"

Peeta notices her actions and follows suit. I can see the gas escaping harmlessly into the sky as they get stronger.

The camera focuses for a minute on Finnick, who's not looking good at all. Instead of going into the water when it burned him, he's crawled away, and I think again of Mags, going into the fog. Since Finnick's mother was jailed, Mags has taken care of him, kept him out of as much trouble as she could, defended him whenever possible. He is curled in on himself, not crying, but in pain, and I'm guessing it's not just from the chemical burns.

"Well," Claudius announces smugly, "it looks like the star-crossed lovers may be free of their convenient alliance with District Four. As Everdeen and Mellark purge themselves, Finnick Odair's vital signs are…"

His voice trails off as Katniss and Peeta, stronger now, each take one of Finnick's arms. They pull him to the water. He fights them as the first pain hits, but they speak to him quietly and gently, purging him of the poison with handfuls of water, cleaning him and soothing him as he comes back to life. There's something almost sacred about the action. Maybe Plutarch is doing it deliberately, or maybe it's coincidence, but the angle is very much like the shots of Katniss last year, cleaning the mud from Peeta's wounds, bringing him out of the dark and into her circle. Now, together, they're bringing Finnick into a kind of surreal silver moonlight that makes all three of them seem to glow.

No one seems to know what to make of this. Claudius is silent -- maybe he's hoping it's all a feint for an attempted drowning -- and the other victors in the room with me are taken aback. It's not by the visual callback, either, I can tell. It's just by watching what they're doing.

For me, it's just Katniss being Katniss and Peeta being Peeta, but I guess I've forgotten over the last year exactly how amazing that can be.

As the last of the poison leeches out of Finnick's body, he dives into the water, doing something that's less like swimming than dancing. The kids watch him, leaning against each other with their hands linked. So far, no one has commented on the fact that everyone is down to underwear, their uniforms melted away by the gas. I think about sending them some clothes, and probably will if it goes on much longer (I may tap Julian Day for it, since he gave me such an open-ended offer), but at the moment, I don't have enough money, and judging by the sores from the gas, I'll have to spend whatever I get next on medicine, unless I lean on Plutarch's generosity.

I wonder whose head will roll for leaving the coverage on them for this. The audience probably loves it, but the point of the Games is not for tributes to rescue and heal each other. If it is Plutarch's call, he'd lose his job, but then, he doesn't exactly intend to be back for an encore next year, anyway. I wonder how he'll justify it if they call him out.

Claudius returns with the map of the arena. "Our power alliance has rejuvenated itself in the water, but they have also come into the territory of another tribute." The three lights that represent Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick are now joined by a fourth, alone in the woods.

Or not alone, as the case happens to be. Berenice Morrow is awake, but the creatures around her are sleeping. They are orange-furred monkeys with long claws and fangs, the same kind of animal Peeta noticed earlier. She is petting one of them like a kitten.

"Berenice Morrow of District Six," Claudius says. "She's been in this part of the arena since the battle at the Cornucopia, and has been keeping herself warm with these genetically engineered primates. You'll recall that in her Games -- the Fifty-Second -- she took an injury from a muttation..."

He breaks away to show Berenice, not terribly pretty, but not yet emaciated from years of morphling abuse, fighting with three spider mutts that dropped from the trees onto her. She rips one apart with her hands, tearing out its fangs, but another bites her before she can crush it against a tree. She stabs the last with a branch before passing out. Claudius narrates that she was sent medicine (Mags was her mentor, and I helped her get it, and I guess that puts some of what happened with her morphling problem later on me), then cuts to the end of her Games, where she uses a fang from the dead spider to stab her last opponent in the throat.

"She's been overlooked in the odds," Claudius tells us breathlessly, "but like everyone in the arena, she is a victor. She is not to be ignored here."

He then proceeds to ignore her and go back to Peeta, who offers to get water. Katniss watches him, then suddenly goes pale. She grabs Finnick and looks at the trees.

The orange monkeys are awake now. They're lining the trees near the beach, heavy on the branches, their eyes avid in the moonlight. Berenice has followed them. Claudius tries to portray this as using them to track her prey, but I don't imagine too many people believe it, as she seems more like she's looking for a runaway puppy, even without knowing that she's part of the alliance, whether Katniss knows it or not. Berenice has always been there, lurking in the shadows. I have a feeling that she means to join the fight here.

At least I hope that's her intention.

Katniss and Finnick quietly arm themselves, and Katniss tries to alert Peeta to the danger without startling the animals. It seems to be working, until Peeta inadvertently looks up, and all hell breaks loose.

The monkeys attack in a pack, screeching and biting. Finnick and Katniss rush in and Peeta draws his knife. They fight well together, smoothly maneuvering to cover each other. Katniss takes down a monkey with each shot. Finnick spears them with his trident. Peeta is vicious with his knife when he has to be (Claudius inevitably reminds people of Peeta's expert knife work last year, defeating Clove at the Cornucopia and killing the District Eight girl with a single cut... that she was begging him to do it is left out).

But there are too many mutts. These are obviously designed to swarm onto enemies, overpower them with sheer numbers. Again, I wonder what in the hell Plutarch was thinking. Maybe he could have planned it, but it strikes me that he could also have saved a few horrors for later, instead of sending them chasing after Katniss every other minute. The only think I can think of is that he's trying to show her performing heroic feats, and if I find out that's his reasoning, I'll deck him.

"They need to start backing out of the woods," Harris hisses beside me. "Finnick could fling them into the water from the beach."

I'm sure this is very good advice, but not exactly practical. They're surrounded. If they break up their fighting formation, the monkeys will swarm in on whichever they think is weakest.

Claudius comes up on half the screen, now hosting the president of the Muttation Appreciation Society -- a regular guest at the Games, and not a bad guy if you ignore his weird interests -- who tells us about the base animal, an extinct primate called an orangutan ("our closest cousin in the animal world, and very smart!"), then talks about the apparent mutations the Gamemakers have made. He is very enthusiastic about this particular mutt, and hopes the Capitol will have some in the Mutt Gardens after the Games. Claudius corrects him, saying that the proper name of the Mutt Gardens is the "Panem Allozooligical Gardens," which is conveniently located just beyond the city center, and admission is half-price during the Games. The M.A.S., we are reminded, will be there to conduct educational tours.

During this fascinating segment, Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick have been fighting for their lives, but it's all so repetitive, really -- slash, stab, shoot, repeat -- that there was apparently no point in commentating on it. Katniss reaches for an arrow and finds her quiver empty. Peeta has her second quiver.

For the first time since I've seen them working together, they miss a step. Peeta reaches around to slide the quiver from his shoulder, and as soon as he does, one of the monkeys leaps at him, claws extended, mouth open to reveal huge, sharp fangs.

Katniss screams and runs for him, but she won't make it. There's no way she'll make it.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I'm sure that Peeta is going to die, but Berenice launches herself through the pack of mutts, howling fiercely, throwing herself between the leaping monkey and Peeta.

I remember Lyme saying that Berenice loves Peeta's paintings, that she wants to protect him, even above her protection of Katniss. I remember seeing her on a little screen, painting herself with flowers while Peeta helped in the training center, and I realize that she has forgotten entirely about the rebellion, about fighting, about the possibility of getting out of the arena.

Berenice may or may not be clear of morphling at the moment, but it damaged her beyond repair years ago, and I'd guess that all that's going through her mind right now is protecting the artist whose work managed to make it through to her after all of these years. She opens her arms and grabs the mutt out of the air, letting it bowl her to the ground. It sinks its teeth into her chest.

She sinks down with a strangely peaceful expression on her face.

Peeta rushes onto the mutt, stabbing it over and over, pulling it off of Berenice and yelling as crazily as I've ever seen Katniss yell, daring the mutts to come after him. But they've made their kill. Their job is done (for now). Katniss tells him to get Berenice out of the woods. She and Finnick cover him, but there's no point to it. The monkeys are gone. Their job is finished.

The main coverage cuts away to show Johanna and Wiress trying to move Beetee down the beach. On my screen and Harris's, I can see that Finnick has gone to guard against the return of the mutts. Katniss and Peeta stay with the dying woman. Katniss holds her hand. Peeta speaks to her softly about painting. She listens to him, rapt, her eyes wide with adoration as he strokes her hair.

Claudius doesn't acknowledge it on the public broadcast at all, and when it goes back to him in the studio, he claims that Berenice was brain-damaged from morphling abuse and possibly suicidal, though of course suicide is explicitly forbidden in the arena. He shows her arrest record in District Six, and headlines about her repeated admissions to a rehabilitation hospital. He calls in a doctor to explain how long-term morphling abuse might have caused permanent damage that might have led to such a bizarre, self-negating action as trying to soothe an agitated mutt.

"Trying to soothe the monkey?" Lyme says behind me. "That's what he's going with?"

I look over my shoulder. "Looks like."

Effie smiles and says, "But everyone could see she was really trying to help Peeta. What a shame that they're not showing his goodbye."

"I'm glad," Lyme says. "Let her have a little privacy at the end." She sits down behind me. Now that both of her tributes are gone, all there is for her to do is wait on the sidelines with the other mentors or go home, if she's allowed to.

Berenice's paintings come up, starting with shocking abstracts after the Games, eventually winding down to childish painted flowers (he does not show that her last act in life is painting one of these flowers on Peeta's cheek with her own blood). This is contrasted with Peeta's work, though his "descent" from the literal painting of the Games to the strange, gray picture of Katniss is suggested to indicate that he might also have problems.

"He certainly is talented," Lyme says.

I nod. "I'm sorry about Berenice."

"You knew her better than I did. I always stayed away. Wish I'd stayed away this time."

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Effie says. "I'm sure it meant a lot to Berenice and Paulin to have someone so kind looking after them here."

Lyme looks at her coolly, much as Hazelle did back in District Twelve, then nods. "I need to go for a walk," she says. "Clear my head." She stands up, sways, then says, "Or maybe I'll go home. They're not requiring me to stay. Maybe it's time to go home."

"You should stay," Harris says. "You never know what will happen." He looks at her over Effie's head, making so much effort to project a thought that he may as well be shouting, We're being picked up and taken away.

She smiles faintly, obviously knowing exactly what he means, and says, "No. I have a feeling I'm needed in District Two. Maybe I'll see you both again next year. You never know." She turns and goes over to Philo, at the District Three table. He nods to Jack, and they go to the lounge to talk.

Effie frowns. "Well, that's too bad. She seemed quite lovely."

Katniss lies down beside Peeta, who puts a sleepy arm around her. Finnick goes to the edge of the sea, supposedly on guard duty. As soon as he hears Katniss start snoring, he buries his face in his hands and cries for Mags.

The shot goes back to Johanna, who's finally given up near the edge of the woods, and is leaning against a tree to keep a guard. Wiress and Beetee are asleep on the ground. In the Career camp, Brutus is up and moving around, tossing a spear at the nearest tree. Faraday Sykes has escaped whatever the Gamemakers sent at her while I was up talking to Plutarch, and is sleeping high in the branches of a tree. Chaff is asleep while Earl sits on a rock and looks at his district token, which seems to be a badly made clay bracelet, with names painted on it in a childish hand. He traces each name thoughtfully.

The arena is quiet, and gentle music plays over pictures of the fallen tributes, all from their original tribute parades. I can't watch it. I know I can't. But I can't look away. The best I can do is turn off my mind and not let myself see it. If I let myself start feeling this, I'll be useless. And, as likely as not, drunk. I'm pretty sure I can beat the remnants of Valentine's detoxers if I hit the serious booze hard enough, and when Seeder's picture comes up, impossibly young and lovely, it's pretty much all I want to do.

We return to the studio.

"It's the end of day one," Claudius says. "Ten tributes have fallen since the Games began, and this year's arena promises much more excitement before the end. Tune in at six in the morning to watch live, and don't forget tomorrow's mandatory viewing, which starts at four o'clock in the afternoon, with recaps of anything that happens in the morning. Now, stay tuned for Bellona Baynes in the premiere televised performance of last winter's musical theater sensation, Star-Crossed!"

"Tell me that's not what I think it is," I tell Effie, remembering that someone mentioned a Games musical.

She gives me an embarrassed little smile and says, "Well, it's actually quite tasteful. I saw it on opening night. The number where she sings to Rue is quite wonderful."

I rub my head. Of course it is.
6 comments or Leave a comment
From: (Anonymous) Date: June 15th, 2015 01:07 pm (UTC) (Link)


"Berenice has always been there, lurking in the shadows. I have feeling that she means to join the fight here."

I have *a* feeling, obviously :)

I'm still a little embarrassed at pointing out such small things when you've managed to portray such gorgeous emotions and characters. I especially love Lyme and Effie this go-around.

fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: June 16th, 2015 12:07 am (UTC) (Link)

Re: Typo...

Well, those typos can really distract from what's done right, so it's good to catch them!
redrikki From: redrikki Date: June 15th, 2015 03:44 pm (UTC) (Link)
I really enjoy the show commentary and how they try to cut and spin the action of the games into something that fits their political narrative. Katniss kind of hints at it in the books, but I like where you're going with it. Also, Lyme is great.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: June 16th, 2015 12:10 am (UTC) (Link)
Haymitch would have a much clearer view of it than Katniss would (aside from being more interested in it, he also sees the things that don't make the broadcast, so he knows what's being suppressed), so it seemed like a good chance to really take a look at it.
From: queen_bellatrix Date: June 19th, 2015 04:30 am (UTC) (Link)

Some Catches/Continuity and meandering review

pulling way and Just need to make that away, I think?

one tributes Think that should be the singular form?

a minute of Finnick Think the of should maybe be on.

have feeling that she means to Just missing an a.

Just some continuity stuff with Berenice. In HT, you say that her games are the 52nd, and he helped Mags get the medicine to send her, though the painkiller was an added Capitol addition, so he knew it was strong but not morphling. I'm not sure how much of this Haymitch would remember, but thought it worth mentioning in case you wanted to change anything in the parenthetical where the images of her games come up--the use of the 57th instead of the 52nd is also in that bit.:).

Ave, Blight. And Mags (gaaah, all the supplementary material on Mags makes her death so much worse, because she was such a forcible personality that was a powerhouse behind the scenes. And I now can't stop thinking about Gia watching the quell, grieving for Ollie and Mags, and being terrified for Finn, all the while thinking that the greatest stroke the rebellion has managed to make is going to go boom if anything happens to these kids; because whether you know what's going on or no with the rebel victors, what they have with these kids is something special. The way you've managed to convey how wrenchingly personal these games are to so many people gives us such a necessary glimpse at the deeper psychological horror of them as an institution, especially important with how skillfully your Snow manipulates them.)
One of the reasons I'm especially glad you're doing these edits is how much you can enhance Haymitch's connections to the other victors with the prequel material. Not only because it just makes everything so seamless but because it gives us the visceral horror of the games even more strongly since he has so much history with these people. The way that you distill it all into these brief flashes of thought, mental sound bites if you will, is fabulous, and so very true to life. How the hell do you even start coming to terms with the deaths of people like Blight and Seeder who've been so inextricably linked with his life for nearly a quarter of a century, be they particularly close or no?

All the edits were fantastic, especially Plutarch trying to find a way to send messages in the arena, though I'm not sure if it makes it better or worse to know how much of what happened they were winging on the fly--on one hand, it means that the people at the viewing center were downright ingenious; on the other, Plutarch, please never run anything that could lead to loss of life ever again.

You did such fabulous stuff with all the behind the scenes commentary, per usual. I especially adored Haymitch's description of the callbacks between Peeta being cleaned by Katniss and what was happening on the beach, especially as he had such a clear understanding of what it would mean, symbolically. Not to mention that the description of them rejuvenating him and bringing him into silver moonlight was just gorgeous.

Also on the Haymitch front, I love that we got to see his critical reasoning yet again coming up aces, with his comment that perhaps the traps were designed only for one tribute, only to see the monkeys draw away after the first kill; I mean, horrible thing to be right about, but it is always so good to see him functioning at full capacity, entirely free of the booze.

And oh, that dream of his; it makes me miss Digger and Rhona so much! Especially because I hate how he thinks it was him chosing to have them die for his comfort, when the only choice he decided to make that was even anywhere near conscious was to make a frankly not that insendiary speech that could've easily been "punished" by a warning shot if Snow weren't so paranoid and out of control. (I often wonder how different Haymitch's life and loyalties would have been if Martius had been given charge of "disciplining" him.)
P.S.: sorry about my total fail in responding to anything else you've posted aside from these edits--I have short stories of yours bookmarked to read and I want to squee over Strike!; I've just had a combination of rl being hectic and being sucked headfirst into a new fandom, which's oddly time-consuming for a recreational activity.:d
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: June 19th, 2015 04:45 am (UTC) (Link)

Re: Some Catches/Continuity and meandering review

I'll grab those. I have to figure out what exactly I've been doing with Berenice, though... dang, that's a lot of confusion.

Yeah, Gia's got to be going absolutely nuts trying to figure out how to feel. She may be the only one in Panem (other than the romance fans) who's really glad it's not Haymitch in the arena instead of Peeta, though I'm sure she knows he's up to something in the capitol.

Going back and thinking about Haymitch's backstory really woke up a lot of those connections that, originally, had been a kind of generic warmth, and now got fairly specific.

The bread is the weirdest communication ever. I've read the book several times now, and I'm still thinking... really? And Plutarch, maybe you should have trusted the tributes to be better actors, and told them to go to wedges with attacks they could fend off until the rescue came. You know, just a thought.

Sober Haymitch is kind of terrifying, if you're Snow. Then again, Snow wouldn't have had to be so paranoid about him if he hadn't severely overreached in his fear. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to really smart people deciding to implode your empire, at least in this one.

Snow really must believe that line about how fragile his empire is, if he can't even let a kid mention that he valued his ally's life, or has a girlfriend he loves, or anything else that even slightly undermines his position as national clown, which was foisted on him (with a little help from the bottle) because Snow was afraid he might be taken seriously... which he wouldn't have had to worry about if he hadn't been paranoid... which he only was because he was pushing his limits too far, which...


There is no reason that Panem had to be this way. With the population drastically reduced, there should have been enough for everyone. The woods are full of food, the soil is fertile, and most of the land is unclaimed in any real sense. The imposed scarcity -- both in the Capitol and in Thirteen -- is so unnecessary.

And Strike, totally worth the squee. I'm looking forward to Career of Evil in October.

Edited at 2015-06-19 04:46 am (UTC)
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