eachdraidh | ( memory | open to both courts )

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( memory | open to both courts )

[ the square of district 12 is small and surrounded by shops. the many bright banners hanging on the buildings conceal much of their aged and deteriorating facade. large screens line the rooftops. the square packed full of people, mostly children and teenagers organized according to their ages, the oldest in front — eighteen-year-olds, many too skinny and small for their age — to those aged twelve ( starvation making so many of them seem so much younger ) in the back. all of them face front to a stage seemingly erected for this moment.

yet despite what should be a festive atmosphere, a grim pall hangs over the crowd. the contagious alarm of prey that knows it is being hunted; the bated breath of the condemned waiting for the hands of the clock to signal the hour. the presence of the peacekeepers in their white uniforms only contributes to the miserable expectancy.

the town clock strikes two, and the mayor reads a story. not a new story judging by the faces of those gathered. the history of panem, the nation that rose out of the ashes of what had been north america. he lists the catastrophes that led to its end and to the birth of panem, a shining beacon of order and prosperity, until the dark days.

thirteen districts rose up against the capitol; twelve were defeated; the thirteenth was obliterated. the treaty of treason was signed, and as a yearly reminder of the capitol’s power, the hunger games were established.

the mayor finishes by reading the list of district 12’s victors: only two and only one still alive who stumbles onto the stage drunk. while haymitch makes a fool of himself, gale scans the crowd for a girl, slight and brown-haired, standing amid the sixteen-year-olds. katniss smiles, but her face soon falls; gale turns away before she does, in time for effie trinket, looking like a caricature of a human, to begin the reaping.

the crowd mutters unhappily. no one really reacts; no one attempts to stop the slip of a yellow-haired girl, her face drained of color, but walking resolutely toward the stage. no one except katniss who screams her sister’s name before she volunteers in prim’s place. gale’s moving too, pulling prim’s small hands from katniss’ dress and picking up the writhing and screaming child and securing her safely in his arms.

“up you go, catnip,” he says so only she hears before he marches with prim to where her mother waits. he lets mrs. everdeen take primrose from him and can only note with some satisfaction that no one applauds when effie asks them to. instead, silently, they make a sign: the three middle fingers on their left hand touched to their lips, then raised in the air. it doesn’t need a translation: it means respect; it means goodbye.

the second reaping passes quickly, though still too slow for gale. he cannot breathe in relief he was not chosen because katniss volunteered. he has to wait for her and peeta to be escorted into the justice building, then wait for her mother and her sister to see her, then surprisingly peeta’s father, then madge and finally it’s his turn.

gale hugs her tight; he wouldn’t let go if he didn’t need to speak his piece. yet there isn’t enough time for all he wishes to say. the peacekeepers ignore his request for more time and begin to haul him bodily out of the room. katniss clings to his hand.

“don’t let them starve!” she begs.

“I won’t! you know I won’t! katniss, remember I — ”

the door slams shut. ]

(( ooc: all replies over the locket will be icly delayed. ))

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( Clary has to take a few minutes to compose herself, hand clasped over her mouth, cheeks hot with rage and eyes stinging with tears. Because to see Gale this way, to see the life he came from, to understand it deeper than he'll ever truly allow her to otherwise... Well. A knot forms in the pit of her stomach, and her heart hurts for him. And she realizes just how much he means to her, and how badly she wishes she could change his world. Once she's calm enough that she thinks her presence won't upset him too much, she goes to him. She doesn't speak. She doesn't say a word. She just walks up and wraps her arms around him and hugs him, good and tight. It's a hug that says she's sorry for what he's been through, but that she doesn't pity him. She admires him for his strength. It's a hug that says 'you aren't alone, and you don't have to be'. It's a hug that speaks of how much she cares, and how badly she wishes things were easier for him. And she shows no signs of letting go. )

[ the locket plays a mockery. that's what it is. mocking them, mocking their hope that by leaving they can remain unaffected. ( gale grips the locket so tight it might have cracked were it made of lesser material. ) now more than ever he wants to bury it, throw it away, forget he ever had it — but that won't remove the video.

he doesn't hate so much that it showed the reaping. it should be seen. it should be known. everyone needs to see what monsters hide behind the capitol's glittering, hedonistic display. what he hates is that it showed that moment between him and katniss. the last time things were still as they were, when they were best friends, just them against the world, bound together first by need then a deep sense of belonging to one another.

that conversation was theirs and theirs alone.

more than that, though, he hates that he isn't alone. now when all he wants is to disappear into his woods away from everyone. gale readies himself for anything: disbelief, pity, some sort of stupid comment. ( the latter only from peter. ) for anything, in fact, but what happens.

he stiffens at clary's embrace. as the seconds lengthen and she does not release him, gale forces the tension from his muscles. it takes him a longer time to sling one arm around her back; it takes a heartbeat for it to tighten securely.

looking over her head at the forest surrounding them, gale mutters, ] It's fine.

[ his turn now to pretend to be all right. when katniss did it, she was aware gale knew better. he trusts clary will too.

( later, when it's his turn to keep watch for the night and his attention drifts over to clary sleeping nearby, he will wonder when they began to understand what the other didn't say. ) ]

( the moment is nothing if not intimate. clary can tell that. not only because she sees it in the face of the girl he remembers, but in his eyes. suddenly she finds herself dealing with a small pang of jealousy over katniss, but an overwhelming other sort of feeling, one of a selfless desire for the girl to come back so that he can stop worrying about her. clary knows he does. she notices him, perhaps when he doesn't notice that she's looking. her sketchbook is almost full, and half of her new drawings are of him, some including peter. the two of them failing spectacularly at teamwork. gale setting a trap. building a fire. on rare occasion, laughing. the moments she tries to capture are the ones that don't happen often. she's not like peter. she's no photographer. her artistry isn't a snapshot's worth of time in length. it takes memory and patience and time... studying. so much studying.

she can feel each of his muscles move under her, coiling in surprise, but she doesn't even consider withdrawing. gale, sometimes, reminds her of a cat in an unfamiliar situation. dangerous, certainly, but tame once the realization that there is no real threat present. she's surprised to find that, once his arm is around her, she releases a breath. she hadn't realized she was holding it in. her eyes flutter closed and her hold on him tightens.

his words are pretty, but drip with all the falsehood of the sliest of foxes. she turns her face inward and allows herself to be enveloped in the cloth of his shirt, where she sighs faintly, and mumbles in response. ) No it's not.

( she's hurt for him. she's upset for him. but more than that, a fire bubbles up under her skin and in her stomach and she's enraged for him. because she knows this was a moment that changed his life entirely, and she hasn't even known him that long. she stays in that position for a long time without speaking, mulling over options in her mind. clary cannot fathom a phrase with enough impact to encompass all she feels and thinks about the display she just witnessed. slowly, very much so, she leans her head back enough that she can look him in the eye. )

I hope you destroy them.

[ this is what they need in panem. more people shaken out of their fear and their stupor. more people to get angry. more people to refuse to sit placidly by as their children are taken, and as their years are cut shorter and shorter from not enough food and too much need. this is what he hoped for district 12, but 12 isn't ready yet. it has to be all of them or they will have no hope.

the capitol was so threatened by katniss holding out a handful of berries it terrorized her for months, then found the way to reap her for the games again. the electricity being cut out immediately following the destruction of the arena was no coincidence. the capitol is as weak as they will ever know it. the more it tries to hide its weaknesses, the wider the cracks are spreading. they just need to seize their opportunity. ]

I plan to, [ he promises darkly.

the capitol won't look away from 12 after this time. that is their moment. in the darkness, they'll have the opportunity. he'll gather the people himself if he must. someone must. he's driven by anger, but there's hope still, a measure of idealism that when he returns will be extinguished.

the difference a few minutes make. ]

( Clary has a fire that is difficult to put out for anyone, and she hates injustice in all forms. She's a raging liberal in a lot of ways, actually. She wants peace and she wants justice and she wishes the world could just give everyone both, all the time, but it's not possible. So... Fire. Her jaw sets and she looks him in the eyes, and something twists in her stomach and her chest constricts, and she steps back. Her hands come up and she cups his face in them. Her thumb rubs under his eye, just above his cheekbone, gently. But with purpose. )

I would send weapons with you, but... I don't know if anyone in your world can use them.

( She would break the barriers between worlds, if she could. Right in this moment there's nothing she wants more than to fix it all for him. )

It was wrong that everyone saw this. It belongs to you. I can - ( She looks at her arms. ) If you want, there's a forgetting rune. I can't use it on everyone, but I can use it on me.

What?

[ a deep frown furrows his brow. gale has the look of someone with little reason to smile. it is at times like this that it becomes obvious: when the muscles more readily pinch unhappily and the creases of long worry fold his skin.

he stares at her for a long moment, trying to judge if clary is being honest. when he ascertains she is, he shakes his head. ]

No. [ firmly, maybe a little scolding. ] You don't — No.

[ hands rising reflexively, gale grips her by the elbows. ]

You don't have to do that. I don't want you to.

[ could it really be so simple? the thought is an enticing one. to forget whatever one might want, to have someone else forget.

it's also a terrible one. how easy it would be to change someone by taking away the pieces. he shakes his head again. as much as he hates the shared memory, he would hate this far more. ]

action. because of reasons.

reasons that I am breaking up with you

please never leave me ok i will buy u diamon ring

is it a big diamond the important questions

the biggest of diamonds.

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