WHO: Ishtar Ikat and Stitch Weaver WHAT: Hanging out. WHEN: A few hours before the Reaping. WHERE: D8 STATUS: Complete PROMPT: Hours. [Ishtar & Stitch]
There were just hours left until the next Reaping. Just a few hours until Stitch’s least favorite time of year started up all over again. He knew the next few hours would go by quickly if only because he didn’t want them to. The longer he had before another Games where he’d have to deal with more tributes and their insistence on dying.
“Hope we get some good ones this year,” he said to Ishtar.
Ishtar fucking hated this time of the year. The other eleven or so months of the year were more than bearable for her and she was able to keep herself busy with her art, plus various trips to the Capitol. In those months, she could almost pretend she was somewhat normal, but that all came to a halt for the Reaping and the Games.
“Maybe,” she said with a small amount of hope in her voice as she looked over at Stitch. “I mean, we had good ones three times before now. It can happen again.”
Stitch nodded. “We’re due for some more. Well just one more. That’s all we need.” They had both done this so often now that neither of them never really need to say how much they hated this whole thing. Now there was they waiting, but soon enough there’d be the train ride with two teenagers and it was always a crapshoot as to how they’d take it, but it was likely they’d be scared, angry or both.
The train was just as bad as the actual Games for her. All the support staff around them was elated they had some new play things, but all Ishtar could think about was how scared the children must be now considering she had spent her own huddled in a ball and crying. Though the crying was just as bad as the silence some of them chose.
“Yeah. Just one.” Since it could never be two. “And it would bring interest back to District 8 too. We could really use that.”
Stitch didn’t overly like the train ride either. It was partly a reminder of his own one as a tribute. He was usually a quiet person, but he hadn’t said much then and spent it wavering between scared to death and trying to figure out someone like him could actually win it.
“Yeah exactly. It’d just be really nice to have another victor.” Maybe Stitch would try a little harder at the mentoring thing this year. Then again, he said that every year. But he also couldn’t help thinking it’d be nice to pass the mentor torch on, if possible.
“Maybe this year will be a more industrial setting,” Ishtar suggested. When it came to nature-based arenas, their district never faired very well and unfortunately those seemed to be the majority of the Games. “We all won in more industrial type settings. Maybe that’s all the kids need to win. It would at least throw the Careers off guard, I think.”
Stitch nodded again. He was sure they both knew that if his arena hadn’t been industrial, it was pretty unlikely he would have won, so it was definitely an advantage to their district. The concrete and cinder blocks, sidewalks and streetlamps (despite being murderous themselves), were more welcome than a forest or a beach. “Industrial settings are definitely good for us. I’d love to see another one. A huge abandoned factory would be amazing.”
The same went for Ishtar. If her arena had been a forest, she would have never stood a chance of even being in the top twelve. Her saving grace was the same as his in that an industrial setting gave them a better advantage. “There hasn’t really been one since the 49th when Miles won. We’re about due for one. Hopefully.”
“Should be any year now,” Stitch agreed, but with a hint of sarcasm. He knew about the Games by now to know that things didn’t usually go the way one wanted them to. “But even if it’s not, like a forest or somewhere with a ton of water, we might still have a chance.”
“Yeah. A forest with a ton of water, plenty of food, no mutts, and a large hole all the Careers just happen to fall in before the Cornucopia.” It’s not that she thought the kids for her district were useless, but most of them just didn’t have the talent needed to survive in the games. Sewing shirts and dying fabric never did any good in the arenas. “How long do we have until the Reaping now?”
Stitch laughed, imagining a Career-sucking hole at the Cornucopia. “That hole would be the best thing ever. I can’t even begin to name the things I’d do to see that.” He kept that picture in his head for another moment.
“Just a couple hours. Want to get a drink before?”
Hey now. The makers of the game had come up with some weird things before in games. A Career-sucking hole at the Cornucopia wasn’t completely far fetched. “Seriously. You and me both.”
Sighing, she sat forward and took a moment to smooth out her skirt. “Make it two drinks and you have a deal.”
“Good. I was actually planning on more than one,” he managed a bit of a grin. What good was just one drink anyway? It always made the Reaping more bearable. Besides, it was kind of a tradition for him now.
“As long as were still able to stand and control our laughter, maybe even more that two. It will help kill another hour at least.” As she had eaten a lot for breakfast, Ishtar was pretty sure she could at least manage three. “Happy Hunger Games, Stitch.”
“Hey, I can handle way more than two!” Stitch protested. Then again two in just an hour was probably about right, he figured. Or three. They’d just have to see how it went. “And a Happy Hunger Games to you, too, Ishtar