Maalik (maalik) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-01-04 19:41:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | ! backstory, - districts, victor: 46th maalik van der zee, x-victor: 32nd olympia zaveri |
WHO: Olympia and Maalik
WHAT: First meeting.
WHEN: Maalik's Victory Tour.
WHERE: D1
STATUS: Complete [GIFT |Maalik | Olympia]
Victory Tour parties were what one made them, generally. Olympia hadn't remembered much of her own Victory Tour-- it was a blur of dancing, talking, interviews, flirations. The years after were much more exciting. But she always attended the parties, always made sure that she had a way to be seen and get there and this year was no exception in that fashion-- what was always different was the Victor. Maalik Van der Zee. His games had been an interesting watch even if District One hadn't brought home a winner. The sheer short length of time had been a surprise and well. Olympia had psecifically waited for the party to calm down before she approached the tall boy. He was eighteen to her twenty nine and he was already much taller and broader than her, (especially since she was in flats) but she didn't let that stop her as she approached. "Maalik Van Der Zee," she raised her voice, moving through the present people. Her stylist had dressed her in a simple white and gold dress for once, but the anklets she wore jingled as she reached out to take his hand. "Congratulations. And welcome to District One. I hope we've been amiable to you." Staring out with clouded eyes, Maalik was in the party but he wasn't really aware of much of what was going on. The victory tour was almost over (finally) and he would be allowed to return home in peace. (Or so he would like to believe, even if there was a horrible nagging voice that whispered every now and again) this is the price for living. Jerking back to the present when Olympia spoke his name, he automatically flashed a smile that was incredibly genuine for someone who had been - well, hacking body pieces to feed to the fish. He took her hand, glad for the contact - it grounded him in the present - made for small comforts. A touch he could trust. "Thank you, I - ah -" He seemed at a loss for words, "I'm sorry for -" Your tributes, your loss, for winning. Maalik dipped his head, blond hair spilling over his eyes messily, "Sorry, let me start again." A deep breath, "You have been very welcoming here, thank you, ah - Olympia, right?" Lord help him, he was not good with names. That was a surprise, his smile. Olympia wasn't expecting that so soon, much less from a tribute like him. She can't help but smile back when he takes her hand, having to use both of hers to give a proper handshake. "Thank you?" Her head cocks; it's half mocking, half truly curious. Some tributes, were bitter, angry, and righfully so. It was natural to have a cynical view at this point, but his genuine reponse after that deep breath was interesting. "Yes, Olympia," she nods and doesn't let go of his hand. "I won the Thirty-Second Games. And you are very welcome yourself. You earned," she says the word carefully beceause some didn't know how to take the term, "this party, this celebration. It's what my tributes would have had if they had been good enough." And they weren't, sad enough. But she'd had time to deal with their deaths and their families. "I'm always happy to accomodate a victor." The hand stays and he makes no move to pull away, the contact makess him believe every word she speaks - Maalik is easy, trusting still. "Very good to meet you." Unexpectedly the words made him startle, just because he cannot believe that he earned this, it had been an accident - this win had not been planned, but the words did not offend him. "A Victor." The words feel so foreign to him, surreal, this was all a dream. He was going to wake up half-bleeding in those caves, right? Two pinches with his free hand and apparently this was not a dream. "This feels very strange still, but thank you. It is not easy?" He had to look at the families if people he killed, he had to say sorry so many times. Until it had sunk in, only victors could understand. District origins mattered less to him, a Victor is a Victor. The compliment makes the corners of her mouth move up and she's not sue if it's from the drinks she had earlier or out of sheer admiration of the genuine way that he speaks. It probably won't last long after this-- but it's nice to hear now. "A Victor," she echoes the words, still some pride in there. Maybe not as much as she had carried when she was fifteen and freshly won nor as much as she'd carried at twenty five but well. It was a hard thing to shake, the knowledge that you'd lived and others had not. "How is it not easy for you?" She moved a little closer, away from anyone who could linger or hear. "The reality of winning? Of living? Or just everything else?" Normally she might have made her tone a little more mocking but it wasn't as obvious in her tone now. Much more genuinely curious rather than sharp. Still able to turn on a dime, depending. Maalik hesitates, unsure on whether Olympia wants an honest answer or what Ondine and Lorcan had coached him to say during this tour. He shrugged awkward and big, and looking lost despite his size. "It was not supposed to be me who came out of the arena." That was his honest answer, "I think sometimes - that everything is moving so fast. I will wake up bleeding in the water." They had left the scar along his ribs intact, according to President Snow who felt it gave this shy boy some character (It doesn't do, dear boy, to be so modest). "You're much too honest," it slips out of her mouth before she can control it, the words biting and callous on reflex. But it's the truth-- Maalik is too honest and too.. up front. Who talked about their Games like that on Victory Tour? Who admitted that outloud? But where she would normally gloss over such words or outright ignore them, Olympia finds herself simply wondering for a moment at him. Just looking at him, recalling the footage from the arena, the rumors, the talk. He was right: he shouldn't have lived. He should be floating down in the water, dead. But he wasn't. "It's a day at a time," she says the words slowly, normally reserved for Victors that she knew, that she brought home, "Just one. You lived because you were good and maybe because you were lucky. Very lucky." She squeezes his hand and shrugs. "Don't worry about that. Not now." Her words have the desired effect and Maalik shifts to looking reassured by this, his eyes clear and he is in the room again. Not lost in questions that no longer mattered; he was here and the rest were not. "Thank you." And he means every word, and proves it with a wide smile. Not faked for the cameras, just genuine contentment. "It is okay to be happy to live, right? Make the most of it." While he muttered this mostly to himself, he was looking at Olympia as if she had shared a secret that helped Maalik piece himself together a little more. And for that, he would always be grateful. "You're welcome," For once, she means it. She returns his smile sweetly enough and oddly, it's an easy smile. "It is happy to be alive, to make what you can. It won't be easy but it won't be the arena." Her shrug is casual, but it's true. Olympia doesn't quite understand him, not completely and not at that moment. But she can appreciate-- no, she likes the way he carries himself here and now. It's different, in a good way for once. "I hope you enjoy your stay in District One and come visit me sometime. I'd like to talk to you more, Maalik." |