Achilles Held, District 1 (oneachilles) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-01-19 20:13:00 |
|
|||
Nothing like the Capitol to bring out the best (and the worst, of course) of everyone. And another year of mentoring because god knew Vellum couldn't be trusted with it and Sugar didn't seem to want to anymore. It was on Achilles' shoulders and would be for some time. There wasn't much choice. Yet he couldn't shake Pecan's words out of his head, no matter how much he wanted to. A decade ago, he would have drunk away the frustration, but this year he didn't have that luxury. Before he could decide it was a bad idea, he found himself knocking on Olympia's door. His fists were clenched at his sides, and he tried not to growl the more he thought about it. He knew that she would be able to talk him down from wanting to lob a vase at Pecan's head. There was no need for this divide in District One, and Achilles knew it would be on him to keep things together. After all, he was the one with years more experience. If the Reaping was any indication? This year was going to be either very fun or very annoying. But Olympia had some sizeable distance-- she didn’t have to directly deal with them this year. Which was better, in a way-- she could sit on the sidelines, not feel or do so much. No real emotional rapport with them, and that was always a balm for the rest of it. But that didn’t mean she was totally ignorant of what was going on. never could be, but damn if she didn’t expect a knock on her door not hours after they were there. She’d just settled in enough to let her hair down, ready to enjoy the Capitol baths, but the knock had her moving away from the bathroom. She was still in the get up from the Reapings, but the make up, she’d scrubbed off, hair loose. “Vellum, this better not be you.” And it wasn’t-- when she pulled the door open it was Achilles instead and he looked like he could spit venom. Immediately, Olympia opened the door wider, eyebrows working together, “Achilles? What is going on? Did one of the Tributes do something already?” "Do you think I'm too old and too stubborn to be mentoring anymore?" he blurted out, his face red, his gaze looking past her only because he couldn't focus on anything. He'd wanted to go find Pecan and yell some sense into her, and it was only his age and maturity that kept him from it. His years had also, which he reminded her, brought home three victors. It was past due time for another. Achilles pushed past her and entered her personal living space, not asking for permission. He knocked the door closed with one hand behind him. He wasn't about to make a spectacle of himself in the middle of their training center this early on. Well, that was a surprise. Olympia couldn’t keep it off her face, but Achilles clearly wasn’t focusing on that at the moment. She allowed him to come inside-- he’d been in her personal space and more before, and it didn’t bother him. Her arms folder over her chest however, as soon as the door was shut, eyes narrowed at him. Temper or not, she’d deal with who and why before even addressing the fact that he looked like he wanted to go a round with someone’s face and his fist. “If you mean too old to keep up, there are much older Victors out there-- Ondine Isaacs being one of them. And stubborn depends on what one means by that in the first place. But that doesn’t matter as much as who is even asking this.” Which, there were too many answers to that, from Abernathy’s (more than likely) drunken self to the Tributes themselves. But with the way he was acting, the first didn’t seem to be the case. “Is the boy questioning you because of last year?” Because of last year? He wasn't sure what she meant by that, but he snarled and began pacing. "Pecan," he said, practically spitting. "Pecan thinks I don't know what I'm doing. Like hell I don't know what I'm doing. She's too fucking flattered by Aramis fawning all over her like a wounded dog." He was still convinced it wouldn't go over well, this young man they had to make into a tribute who thought that going too far was the way to go. He also didn't think that he'd take direction. Achilles had worked with enough tributes over the years to see the ones who came in with their own game plans and their own opinions and who didn't listen to their mentors. They were the ones who came back in a box. "Outlier districts don't have this problem, do they?" he grumbled, still pacing. Pacing was all he could do to keep from putting a hand through the wall. Pecan. Instinctively, Olympia’s mouth twisted in utter distaste-- Pecan was questioning him? The insubordination jumped at her the most more than anything. She could see why Achilles was angry, oh yes. Little Pecan was full of herself and those two she’d brought home must have made her head bigger. “Of course she’s flattered by Aramis-- when has anyone known Pecan as anything but self serving? I hope you reminded her just who brought her home during her year as soon as that shit came flying out of her mouth,” she sat down on the bed, pulling up one leg, watching Achilles pace up and down like one of those lions she’d seen before. “Hm, I’m sure they don’t. They have a little less spine to go around. But they have their own problems from the get-go, and we shouldn’t. She’ll want to fight you tooth and nail on decisions here and out if she can say this on the first day, like a teenager.” Which was exactly how Pecan was acting, to Olympia from here anyway. “You still have the girl-- Sephora, if she doesn’t want to play nice.” "I did," he said, "though it seemed to fall on deaf ears." He scowled and stopped pacing for a moment, turning to look at her. Achilles started to relax, just from being around Olympia. Usually, she really did have a calming influence. "I'm fine giving her the boy," he said in one sharp breath. "She can fuck that up all she damn well pleases. I'll take Sephora. She's our real chance." And he was sure she was. She was taking this seriously. Every moment he'd had with her so far told him that. Was it possible he might be mistaken? Of course, but he had years behind him to back him up. Breathe in, breathe out, and he tangled a hand in his hair. "I don't like the way this year is beginning, Olympia," he said. The scowl on her face deepened; Pecan really was going to make this difficult, wasn’t she? “Even if she fucks him up, still try a bit. But with him being her little lapdog already? Mmph.” Well, there went one tribute. But Olympia brushed it aside-- not her responsibility. She set it aside, Achilles was fine with that. The tangled hand in his hair, the pacing and the gruff way he spoke was entirely hers to deal with. “Cut her off at the knees and use Sephora to teach her just how old you are-- old enough to remember when she was Tribute and old enough to remember that you sent her home. She needs to be humbled, and maybe humiliated. But that should be easy enough to do.” She watched him, going back and forth, back and forth, waiting. Pecan was one thing, but that comment about his age was, she figured, more or less the most irritating wound against him and he’d let her know, soon enough. “She’s just a relative child. And you know how to handle one better than me.” God, Olympia did know just what to say to make him feel better. He felt the blood coursing through him cool off, and he finally unclenched his fists. There were nail prints in his palms. It was a long moment before he spoke again, but when he did, his voice was lower and calmer. "You are incredible, you know that?" He let his shoulders relax as he looked over at her, sitting on her bed, watching him. "I wish you were mentoring again with me." There we go. Olympia watched his hands relax, and she waited for him to speak. When he finally did, she couldn’t help it: the smile she gave was genuine and wide. “Mm, I don’t think so. But I’d like to hear that a lot more from you.” But the admission that he wanted her to keep mentoring with him, that made her chest clench up just a bit, politics not being the least bit part of it. “I may not do it officially with you, but I’ll do what I can. I’m still here and I’m not going to end up like Abernathy.” That almost made him smile, but not quite. He wasn't yet back at the smiling stage, but he was close. "I don't know what I'd do without you, honestly." Well, there were a few things, like punching a hole in the wall or having a screaming match with Pecan or any number of things, but Olympia was here and everything was fine. He backed up to the wall and sagged against it, rubbing his forehead and taking a few deep, calming breaths. He'd been working on his relaxation and breathing more and more with his wife back home. He waited a moment before crossing and sitting, a bit anxiously, next to Olympia on her bed. "I just have to remember that she isn't you," he said. “I could think of a few things, and none of them are pretty,” Her smile widened just a bit. “Or not to everyone else-- I might find a few of those things funny.” She leaned back as he backed against the wall and she took a moment to just look at him, his body language, listen to him breathe a bit. She looked for any bit of stress showing on him that might carry on to the morning or the rest of the time that they’d be here-- or at least any of it that was new, at least. Better to prepare for the rest, really. Instinctively, her fingers wrapped around his when he sat down, cocking an eyebrow. “That shouldn’t be so hard. It shouldn’t be so hard to still remember her when she was in her Arena.” She leaned her cheek on his shoulder, just staying there, comfortable. “Just stay here and don’t look at her until you have to, is all.” Achilles relaxed further when she took his hand and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. He turned his mouth into her hair and breathed her in for a moment. "We have a while until the parade," he said. "I need to be calm enough that I don't wring her neck in public." He'd have to stand with her as the District One mentors, and he had a feeling Narses would dress them well-matched together. "I don't like the idea that anyone will notice something wrong between us." “Blow off some steam beforehand, maybe? I like to use a vase I hate, drop it on the floor and pretend it’s someone I hate,” Olympia shrugged and didn’t tell him about who she usually visualized. “That or just pretend she’s some annoying Capitolite you want to impress.” She gripped his hand a little tighter. “And if you can just try and find me or someone you like in the crowd. Just stay here tonight. You can deal with her in the morning.” Was that an invitation to him to spend the night with her, he wondered, or was he reading into things? He was reading into things, of course. "I think I'm finally past the damaging other people's property portion of the evening, Olympia, but thank you." Now he smiled and pulled back to look at her. He brushed his finger tips against her cheek and pulled away, standing up. Her grip strengthened just enough before he pulled away. It had been one, but it was just as fine for him to leave tonight. Seemed like there’d be more than enough time to make up for it. She leaned her head in close and shook her head. “Good night, alright? I’ll see you when you need me.” |