Who: Achilles Held and Ondine Isaacs When: The 35th Games Where: The Capitol What: R-e-s-p-e-c-t. [Prompt: Grudge | Achilles | Ondine] Status: Complete
It was his first year as a victor watching the Games, and it hurt. No, hurt was such a physical description, and physically he felt fine. Except for his splitting headache and the spots in his line of vision (that he could blame on not sleeping well) and the way his stomach felt funny every time he was near a television monitor. Still, he was the reigning victor and he had to be visible. All he really wanted was to drink and drink and sleep (or not sleep, as the case might be) and drink and drink and maybe eat something then drink some more.
He found a place off to the side of the viewing room as the countdown to the Games began. He nearly ran into one of his fellow victors. He thought she might be from Four, but he wasn't sure. He didn't apologize, simply stumbled aside and against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.
Another year, another Game. Ten years so far Ondine had been through the song and dance, and it was beginning to get repetitive in its motions. Not something she had come to terms with, but she knew the steps of the dance now, was familiar with the way that coming to the Captiol was liking picking at the scab over and over just as it started to scar over. The Cornucopia was always among the worst of it--watching so many children die was never pleasant, and this year it felt more so than usual, what with the bloodbath death of her tribute last year so fresh on her mind. It was with that in mind that she hovered near the side of the room, as well as the comfort that having her back near the wall provided.
“Hey!” Ondine hadn’t been paying much attention, but she did manage to dodge the teenage boy who so carelessly brushed by her. It took her a moment to recognize Achilles Held; the boy who had killed her tribute exactly a year ago, despite all customs of the Career pack. Ondine scowled at him and tossed her hair over her shoulder. It wasn’t her first time meeting him, but on the Victor tour she hadn’t paid much attention to him, having been far busier worrying about her pregnant sister than some District One Victor. “It’s courtesy to apologize,” she snapped at him, “when you nearly run someone over. Even in the Capitol.”
Achilles scowled and looked at her. Then he shrugged. "Maybe you'd better watch better where you're going." He was well aware that the collision had been his fault, but he didn't care. He didn't care about much except that he wanted to get out of this room before he melted. Is this what it felt like to be a victor? Useless, pointless, with nothing to look forward to? It wasn't the memories of the Games that bothered him. He killed people, so what. He won. It was the fact that in a matter of weeks, he wouldn't be on everybody's mind anymore. Hadn't been for a while now, since the Reaping, since the Games were announced, since -- well, since his Victory Tour. All those years of preparation and now what?
"You're from Four, aren't you?" he blurted out.
“I was standing. You were the one who was walking.” Ondine’s grimace deepened as Achilles clearly dismissed her as well as the apology he owed her. It wasn’t as though Ondine expected much from people any more, but she wouldn’t stand for people completely disrespecting her, and it was clear that he was doing that. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to her hip.
If she hadn’t been bristling before, that question certainly would have set her off. “Ondine Isaacs,” she said. “District Four, Quell Victor. And you’re Achilles Held. You killed my tribute in the Cornucopia, completely disregarding the Pack, and still need to apologize for running into me.”
Yes, Achilles had killed the Four boy at the cornucopia, but he turned his back and Achilles never had agreed to the Career Pack in the first place. He hadn't needed them. He won in his own right, rather than forging stupid friendships that would just be betrayed later. Everyone else was always going to die anyway. "Maybe you should have taught him not to turn his back to a One," he said.
He pushed himself away from the wall, wobbling a bit. "Sorry 'bout the premature kill, Isaacs." He gave her a nod and walked away to find another drink. The Games would be starting any minute.