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<div class="postheader">WHO: (Who is making the post)
WHERE: (Where the post takes place)
WHEN: (When the post takes place)
OPEN TO: (Who the post is open to tags from -- Specific characters, all, none, etc.)
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sixthiteration

WHO: EVERYBODY
WHERE: EVERYWHERE
WHEN: 13 July (afternoon, main quake) - 14 July (morning, last aftershocks)
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Potential injuries, PTSD, and anxiety

The sun is still high when the earth begins its initial, almost benign sway, but seasoned villagers know well enough that what follows will be far from gentle. Vibrations ramp up swiftly, exponentially, until within the space of a few seconds, the whole world is shaking — Dishes pinging down from shelves, young trees sifting free of the earth, shingles dislodging and tumbling like rain.

After 20 seconds, the worst is done, and after 30 the shaking has ebbed completely. Some will have escaped relatively unscathed, but others will not have been so lucky...

...and the aftershocks are still to come.

littledhampir

WHO: Rose Hathaway
WHERE: Fountain, Inn, Various locations around 6i
WHEN: Last week of June
OPEN TO: Everyone.
WARNINGS: Description of drowning. Possible references to kidnapping, biting, vampires. Rose. She can be a walking warning depending on her mood?!

( Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me? )

markwatney

WHO: Mark Watney
WHERE: 6I Inn front lawn
WHEN: 21 June 2018, afternoon/evening and onward
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
NOTES: A few thinsgs: You may assume your character helped set up; There are tubers in pot with the red salt, negating the warmth effect; The list of of potluck dishes is here; The list of local provisions is here

The weather is great, the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon, and it's pleasantly mild. Time for an (extremely) old-fashioned low country boil.

We've got two small fire pits built out in front of the inn, each with a massive pot filled with loads of vegetables — corn, carrots, potatoes, onions — and of course the rainbow crabs Finnick and Annie discovered not long after we arrived here. We've even got salt, if you can believe it, although the red salt in this place is pretty spicy and usually makes me sweat, so I've only put it in the one pot, and then set a bowl of it out for garnishing.

Tables and chairs have been brought out from inside, a couple of them set aside specifically for piles of plates, bowls, cups and whatever potluck provisions the rest of the village brings.

oorah

WHERE: Fountain Park, The Inn, wherever
WHEN: June 18
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: tl;dr (sorry), near-drowning, sad bro times, panic attacks idk

it's only water

He comes to with cool water rushing all around him and his heart immediately seizes with panic. The last thing he remembers is stepping through his apartment door after four long months in a city that shouldn't exist. Reims - or was it Rouen? It says something about him that as he looks around even deep underwater he isn't sure whether New York or that silent place was the dream. In a fucked up way, he's banking on New York. It was a kindness he wasn't owed, to see his friends go home after their shared nightmare.

It's taking him too long to get to the surface, he can see the light, he's so close, but he's afraid to splash. What if he's back? Or in another Sound Eater haven? He's trying to remember the list he had compiled. Perth, Yokohama, Bogota, Tehran, Karachi, Moscow, Bangkok, Frankfurt... With every city, he's getting closer to the surface but he's losing oxygen fast in trying to stay silent. However he got here, he doesn't have to get everyone nearby killed because of his fuck up.

Eventually, and it feels even longer than the reality, he spills out of the fountain with a loud slap against the stone, his body hanging over the edge, prone for entire moments. Suddenly - involuntarily - he sputters, puking up water from his lungs and slowly coming back to full consciousness. He blinks rapidly to clear his eyes too, trying to remember dying, but also knowing it never works that way. This isn't the Reset Room, and there's no red dust. Something that becomes all too apparent when he grabs a handful of dirt from the ground sprawling out in front of the fountain. The monsters aren't here yet, so he upturns himself and slips over the side of the fountain as silently as he can.

It's only then that he feels the weight of the pack on his back, missing the familiar shelter of his combat boots when earth sticks to the bottoms of his wet feet. He feels behind him at the backpack, but it's closed with a zipper. He'll have to find a soundproofed place to know what's inside. Hopefully it isn't a bomb???

He dutifully makes his way into the village on silent feet, scanning the area as he goes for anything that seems familiar. Istanbul, Lima, Rio de Janeiro... Nothing. This isn't France, though, not either version he's familiar with. That's honestly the most jarring part, somehow. There's no Constance to greet him, no one shushing him. Just wide open space. He doesn't think he's ever been so terrified in his life, and this coming from a guy who's seen combat. Who's waged it, personally.

The first person he sees will be met with the full brunt of his concerned stare, and it's a doozy. Fear is clearly reflected in his gaze as it darts around, like a wild animal who's been cornered. Similarly, he might bolt any minute, so approach with caution. Or don't, YOLO.

it's only fire

Some wandering and strategic shaking later and a dryer version of the Mayor finds himself inside the Inn where he makes quick work of opening the bag, doing it silently though there are sounds all around him. Soft talking and shuffling that assaults his delicate senses like a category 6 maelstrom. Socks and boots are donned in an instant, just as quietly as he continues to drip on the furniture. This place has to be soundproofed, he reasons, or somehow he's made it far enough away from the monsters...?

In something of a daze, he finds his way to the roaring fireplace and resigns himself to sitting by the flames until he's at least moderately less soaked. He doesn't turn enough to see who comes in, but every time the door opens his face moves towards the sound. It's so - normal. Maybe this is the dream, that would make the most sense of all. Frank pulls his teal scrub top away from his body to help it dry faster, closing his eyes for just a moment. Just one... He nods off, just like that, sitting in front of the fire with his expression deeply furrowed. His eyes twitch like he's dreaming, though it's only been a few moments. Not enough time has passed for REM, but his mind is supplying him images anyway, and if the twitches in his frame are any indication none of them are particularly pleasant.

If he's woken either purposefully by a second party, by someone making too much noise near him, or merely by his own cruel thoughts pushing him back to consciousness, he'll start awake, eyes flying open wide. Though his mouth opens into a gasp, that too is silent. He's dry and warm now, and it's time to move on. He gets to his feet one inch at a time, trying to avoid the crackle and pop of tired bones though one dislodges in his neck anyway and earns a grimace from him. It wouldn't have been enough to get him killed, even in Reims, but any sound is deafening now after over 100 days of consecutive silence.

He shoulders his pack and makes his way back out to the square, and the cacophony of villagers gathering outside causes bile rise up his throat in dread. The wheels on carts and the soft stomp of trudging feet carrying the louder din of voices and laughter have his heart pounding fast all over again. Something is very, very wrong and he doesn't have the data to get to the bottom of it. He'll be frozen there in the middle of the causeway for some time before carrying on to find a quiet place to be alone.

it's only love

Frank will be wandering the 6I/7I village(s) for most of the day until someone directs him more specifically. Feel free to encounter him anywhere along the way.

onen_i_estel

WHO: Aragorn
WHERE: Fountain, wandering the settlement, inn
WHEN: June 17th and 18th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None really, will update

[ Fountain - Owen ]

Losto.

It was the last thing Aragorn remembers her saying before drifting into peaceful slumber. The day had been a long one. The festivities commenced shortly after his coronation led into the early morning hours and it was a party Aragorn wished to remain to the end of; to spend that time among his those he cared for and respected. Yet it is also a time that he quietly reflects on everything that has happened in the six months since Frodo left the Shire with the One Ring.

It was all over now.

With the Ring now destroyed and Middle-earth at peace from the evil Sauron, it was time to rebuild, grow and become stronger again. Yes, it would take time, Aragorn knew and there would be times when the past would come back and the faces of those they lost would remind them of the sacrifices that had been made to help get them to where they were now.

But then that sense of calm and rest suddenly shifts and the darkness beneath Aragorn's lids fades into a wicked blackness. His head and stomach twist and turn and a weight presses into his chest making it impossible to breathe or even move. He felt like he was drowning.

Echuio.

Grey eyes flash open and limbs begin kicking until Aragorn breaches the surface and tries to make sense of the whirlwind of things that are simple not right. The odd weight on his back, the feeling of restraints under his arms and over his shoulders. The lightness of his clothes.. the whiteness of them.

Gasping, the Ranger clings to the edge of the fountain, pushing away the dark hair that stuck to his face and in front of his eyes before moving to climb out. And when the water is rubbed out of his eyes and he can finally see Aragorn notices that nothing about these surroundings looks familiar.

[Translation: "sleep" and "wake up" ]

[ Wandering 6I - OTA ]

Even after a day, Aragorn had trouble grasping this new situation; the world, one that bore some similarities to his but one which was largely different, in a way that is immensely uncomfortable. No one would suspect it beyond the slightly troubled expression of someone that was new.

The Ranger turned King walked slowly through the dirt streets of the settlement and stops occasionally to study the houses or other buildings. He can guess their purpose, for the most part, but the other ones are a little harder to distinguish. Until he sees a few people going into the inn.

So he follows.

notbadcakeboss

WHO: Peeta Mellark
WHERE: The woods, The bakery
WHEN: June 16 - 30
OPEN TO: All, One closed prompt for Katniss
WARNINGS: Nada

The Bakery

It had taken time to adjust and let his paranoia about the village to subside. While he had decided that this wasn't the arena and he wasn't in the games, instinct kept him braced for violence or ambushes. Too often, he stayed up through the night, keeping watch and listening for the familiar sounds of the games. There were no canons, no images in the sky and no mutts to chase them. After a month, he was able to relax and rest during the night. The more he regained his energy and strength, the more he felt ready to make something of his life here.

He'd been directed to the bakery and warned in advance that it needed to be cleaned. The building was at least in tact, even if it had dust, dirt and leaves everywhere. He'd have to scrub it from the walls to the floor, but it would be worth it in the end.

He certainly wasn't about to be above putting people to work, especially if they showed interest in what he was doing. "This will go a bit faster if you give me a hand." He said, smiling at whoever was peeking inside.

The Woods [Closed to Katniss]

He never cared for the woods in District 12, having lived more in the village than in the Seam. He didn't have to survive in the way Katniss did, though that wasn't to say it was any better. He'd always admired her ability to trek out into the forests and collect game. It certainly had kept them both alive in the the arena, even if he hadn't been able to contribute much.

But that could be changed here. After Mark's lesson on plants, Peeta had revived the familiar project that he and Katniss had started in 12. The plants were different and apparently more dangerous. They'd need to keep track of them, especially if someone who happened to recognize the plants happened to leave. This also let him feel as if he was contributing, as he couldn't hunt like Katniss.

Perhaps even better, it gave him a chance to be alone with her. He would be glad to wander off into the woods now for that. There was nothing to distract or drive them apart. His mood was bright, despite where they were and had no answers in how they came to be there. He grinned at Katniss, picking one of the Forget Me Nots. "Here, for you."

fishermansweater

WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: The woods, by the fields, and the Inn
WHEN: June 6
OPEN TO: EVERYONE
WARNINGS: None so far but always the chance of Panem-related asshattery

THE WOODS

OTA

He thinks they're dandelions. At least, they look like dandelions. But for all his training, edible-plants was never Finnick's strongest point. Fishing, hunting, improvising nets and ropes out of whatever he could find around him, those were the skills that got him through the arena of the 65th Hunger Games. So when he finds that a spot in the woods near one of his fishing traps has, in the space of a few days, erupted into a carpet of fluffy white balls that burst seeds into the air as he walks through them, Finnick's immediate response is uncertainty.

He crouches down by one of the plants and peers at its leaves. Dandelions, he knows, are safe to eat. He's seen tributes eat them in the arena. But he isn't sure if these are actually dandelions or just some other plant that acts like them, and he can't remember as he studies the leaves whether or not that's what dandelion leaves look like. if they were dandelions, shouldn't there have been flowers? Or at least, flowers for longer than the time it's been since Finnick last walked through this spot?

Maybe someone in the village will know. Maybe Katniss will know, since somehow she seems to know a lot more about how to survive in the wild than any tribute from her District he's ever seen. (There's a story there, somewhere, but it's a story that nobody would expect anyone else to share, at least not someone who's spent as long under the Capitol's surveillance as Finnick.)

So Finnick gathers a collection of leaves from the plants, and tries his best to collect one of the fluffy heads without it bursting into the air, and puts them in one of the woven baskets he and Annie use for transporting fish.

THE FIELDS

OTA

Finnick plans to stop by the fields on his way home, with the vague thought that there might be someone there who's able to help him work out what the plant he's found is. But as he cuts across from the woods towards the fields, Finnick's suddenly overcome by the smell of salt on the breeze, the tangy smell of the sea that means home.

He stops, uncertain, and raises his trident, his body suddenly tense, the alertness that's always running under the surface suddenly springing to the surface. It's impossible that he's smelling the ocean here; surely it can only be some sort of trap.

He waits, only sign of movement the rapid rate at his his gaze goes from one spot to another, scanning trees, shrubs, anything that could act as cover. It's only slowly that he realizes there's no real apparent danger, and heads towards the smell.

THE INN

OTA

The smell of the sea had turned out to be coming from another unexpected spring blossoming, this time an expanse of purple flowers on the boundary of the fields. He doesn't remember seeing wildflowers there before now, and now there are so many of them that they look like a field of their own. Since he already has a sample of uncertain flora in his pack, he'd picked some of these flowers, too, and he heads for the Inn with his samples in his backpack.

He stalks into the main room of the Inn, because it's one of the places it's common to see a lot of the villagers gathered. He has one of the purple flowers in his hand, and he holds it out, his head tilted to one side, as he leans on the never-stocked bar.

"Is it me, or are there more plants around than there should be?"

[ We're playing with Fluffpods and Forget Me Nots! Check them out on the Flora list for more information about them. ]

juststayalive

WHO: Haymitch Abernathy
WHERE: The fountain and nearby
WHEN: May 23
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Probable mentions of torture, murder, death, alcoholism, all the sunshiney Panem stuff

The Fountain (closed to Finnick)

"You and a syringe against the Capitol. This is why no one lets you make the plans." He barely has time to finish what he's saying before the scene is shifting around him, and he's not on a hoverplane anymore, but in some location he can't identify. Is it water? Where did that come from? Or perhaps a better question is, how did he end up in it?

These are questions he doesn't have time to contemplate. Every instinct he has kicks in and he's pulling for the surface, or at least the direction that's lighter than the rest, because that must be the surface, right? He barely notices the backpack or heavy-duty boots weighing him down, which is some kind of minor miracle because he's not exactly in swimming shape. Even before, when he'd been young and fit, he hadn't really known how to swim. Not like some other tributes.

How he manages to break through the surface of the water he'll never figure out. It might have to do with his incredible desire not to die. At least not here, like this. That would be letting them win.

He's out of the water and over the edge of the fountain before he even knows what he's doing. He has no time to pause, to assess his new location, to analyze the situation. The images are creeping in again, although they're not images of water, and he can't afford to let them. He needs to get somewhere safe before he gives in.

He takes one stumbling step, then another, in a direction that he hopes leads to safety. Or at least somewhere he can sit down.

The Village (open to all)

It might be unwise to go to the center of the activity -- there was always a blood bath at the Cornucopia, after all -- but how else is he going to figure out anything about this place? Once he's away from the fountain, he heads for the more populated area, but still making sure to stick to the trees along the edges. He's not as good at defending himself with weapons as Katniss, or as good at blending in as Peeta, so he'll have to make the best of it.

Satisfied that he's in no immediate danger, he creeps closer through the trees, aiming for the edge of the village. He hasn't forgotten the tricks for making it out of an arena, although this doesn't feel quite like any arena he's familiar with. The longer you avoid drawing unnecessary attention to yourself, the longer you stay alive. Hence the creeping.

It doesn't take long for the aching of joints and shortness of breath to convince him of one thing: he's too old for this. There's a reason that the tributes were teenagers, after all. All the years of idleness make a difference, too. Not going back into the arena was the one thing he was supposed to be sure of, as a Victor, but that promise had already been broken once. Why not again? Is this some sort of punishment for his involvement in the nascent rebellion?

He finds an unused building to use for cover and leans his back against it, so he can look over the trees behind him. If he were younger, he might attempt climbing one. But he's not, so he'll do what he can. Once he's sure that there's no one behind him, he turns to look around the building toward the village on the other side.

burn_with_us

WHO: Katniss Everdeen
WHERE: 6I village
WHEN: 6 May (before Peeta arrived)
OPEN TO: all
WARNINGS: TBD

Katniss has been here a few days and it's already long enough.

From the moment she climbed from the fountain, she's thought this place was an arena and nothing she's seen has given her the impression it isn't some sort of Capitol trick, though the arena might be a stretch. It's more like a District, given the lack of traps, but she's still not trusting anything. She doesn't want to fall victim to a trap, to lull herself into thinking she's safe when danger can be lurking around any corner.

She feels safer under the cover of trees than out in the open so she'd taken to them as soon as she'd pulled herself from the fountain a few nights before, still dripping as she scrambled up a likely redwood and perched there to get the best view of the surrounding area. There's a village where the fountain is and it looks for all the world like the town part of 12, like the little houses the merchants had before everything had been blown to smithereens.

There's people who come and go, yes, but she hasn't seen any peacekeepers. She journeys through the woods during the night and finds that there's no fence, so far as she can tell, but she'd managed to stumble into a few ant hills and get stung; it's this that drives her into the village. None of the plants here are plants that she knows and she doesn't know what will draw out this poison. The welts on her arms and legs are painful even if she doesn't feel sick and the sun is up and has been for a while. It's not terribly hot, which is a blessing, but the pain from the bites doesn't make it an easy trip.

By the time she actually makes it into town, she's more than ready to get her bites tended to so she can go back to the woods and hide a little longer. She'll have to move camp to make sure she's not followed but better this than to die.

[Find Katniss on the edge of the woods, near the hospital or anywhere else in the village.]

notbadcakeboss

WHO: Peeta Mellark
WHERE: The Fountain, Around the Village
WHEN: 5/6
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Mentions of the arena, death, etc.

The Fountain (Closed to Finnick)

It had been chaos in the arena. The world seemed to explode in a burst of light as everything fell around them, while all he could think of was finding Katniss. He'd run from Finnick's side when the lightening hit and the arena seemed to shatter. He could hardly hear his voice over the ruckus, but he knew he was screaming for Katniss.

Suddenly, everything around him changed. Water filled his lungs as struggled to reach the surface. Had the arena shifted? Had a tidal wave hit them? His body was like a rock, sinking towards the bottom. His useless efforts to kick did nothing but splash the water around him. Someone might hear, another tribute? Would they even bother trying to kill him if managed to make it to the surface. At the moment, the water was doing the work for them.

He struggled, coughing only to have more water fill his mouth. It wasn't going to be long before another canon sounded and another tribute fell.

The Village

It was a bit to take in, more than arenas. There had been days to prepare for that, to let the idea of death to roll over him. This, this had come out of nowhere. Suddenly he was pulled from the Quarter Quell's arena and thrown into the fountain, forced to adapt to a village he didn't know and prepare for dangers he couldn't predict. Were the other tributes here going to try to kill him? Could he trust them long enough to find food?

Everyone walked around normal, unafraid and confident. No one carried weapons like a life line. Instead, they smiled at him as if he were home. It left him dizzy, as if he was suffering from a fever that made the ground spin under him. So many thoughts and so many questions overwhelmed him. Finally, he collapsed on the steps of a bungalow, unconcerned about who it belonged to or what might lurk inside. Instead, he leaned his head against the railing and let out a deep sigh.

If someone was watching, they'd see his weakness, but there was no saying if there would be sponsors. Let them look at him and know he was separated from Katniss, out of his element and worried for her, as well as their allies. He could at least find some humor, smiling softly to him. "Let the 76th Hunger Games begin."

stillplaying

WHO: Katniss Everdeen
WHERE: Outside House 41
WHEN: May 22
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Open

It's taken her a while to find the perfect branch. Something that wouldn't require too much trimming in size. Something that was relatively straight, free of the knots and side branches and anything else that might get in the way of carving a decent bow. She had found that bow a few weeks back, shortly before Peeta had wound up with a broken leg. Her project had been put to the side in favor of fretting over Peeta. Maybe that had been a mistake. If she had actually worked harder on finding the right branch, if she had worked harder on making her bow, maybe she could have done something to prevent Peeta from getting hurt. It's a stupid and irrational thought but it's one that's plagued her nonetheless.

Although his leg is still broken, it's finally sunk in that she doesn't need to watch him every second. He's capable on his crutches and that's something that she should respect. This new arena might be dangerous in its own way but there's no one actively trying to kill them. Besides, it's easy to keep an eye on the bakery from the porch of their house. She can stay out of his and Jacob's way but still monitor the bakery's comings and goings.

She sits quietly on the porch, the branch between her knees as she works on carving one edge. The paring knife is small but sharp enough to gently remove the wood from the belly side of the bow. She slowly works her way down the branch, crafting the wood until the limb bends in an even curve. Eventually, she carves notches into either end before moving on to working on the strings. Every now and then, she looks up to watch the bakery entrance - especially if she hears footsteps.

It's not a bad way to pass the afternoon, though she'd rather be out in the surrounding woods. That's the purpose of making this rough bow though, isn't it? She won't feel fully comfortable in her new surroundings until she had a way to protect herself and Peeta. And a way to provide them with extra food.

bewaretheniceboy

WHO: Jax Teller, Neil Mackay, Peeta Mellark, and anyone who wants to visit them, doctor them, or look after them
WHERE: The hospital
WHEN: The days after the Obscurus rampage
OPEN TO: Anyone who wants to visit the patients, anyone who's hurt, or anyone who's got any reason to be in the hospital at all. Tag each other! Mingle! Commiserate!
WARNINGS: People got hurt, so injuries and wounds, presumably blood, at least one head injury, probably nightmares, and various medical things could all crop up here
STATUS: Open (please state who the tag is for and a general idea of a timeframe in the subject line of your comment!)

The doctors in this place were as quick as they could be with limited supplies or trained personnel. Within a very short time of the smoke monster smashing through one man and slamming a few others aside, they had the injured moved into the hospital, cleaned up, and attended to as best they could. The lack of supplies and technology across the entire village was felt more in the medical field than any other, but all the members of that little group were resourceful and determined, and at least while some of the injuries had been severe no one had been on the doorstep of death. It was easier to treat a person when you were sure they would keep breathing.

Still, a lot of it had been improvised, and no one could be healed in an instant; they'd all have to do it the old-fashioned way, letting time and rest mend their wounds. Neil, Jax, and Peeta had all been placed in the same room in the hospital just to make it easier to keep tabs on them and for companionship through the night. The beds were spaced far enough apart to give some sort of privacy if the conversations were kept quiet and spare blankets had been tacked up that could be pulled back or dropped like curtains to give at least a visual barrier around the patients, but no one was far away enough from each other to not be able to talk (or listen) if they wanted to. A few chairs were available for visitors' use, though slightly rickety and not up to much punishment. All three of them would be there for a good bit, so the goal was to make their stay as comfortable as was possible.

repressings

WHO: Credence Barebone
WHERE: All along the village, particularly his and Graves' house, the inn, and the schoolhouse
WHEN: 24th
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: Violence, mentions of abuse
STATUS: Open
( A moon-shaped pool )

stillplaying

WHO: Katniss Everdeen + [OPEN]
WHERE: village, woods
WHEN: March 15
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Potential for PTSD, violence, death, other THG-related fun times
STATUS: Open

woods;

It's cold and wet but the clothes and the clothes she wears, although better than the sheer blue jumpsuit the Gamemakers had previously outfitted her in. That they somehow had time to change her outfit and provide her with a backpack of provisions still puzzles her. The last thing she remembers is the force field. Beetee's message sinking in. Knowing just who the enemy is. She remembers taking the wire and securing it around her arrow. She remembers nocking it in her bow and aiming it towards the chink in the field's armor right before lightning strikes the tree. She remembers being blown backward by the force.

Then she had been submerged underwater and survival instinct had kicked in. Now, ten minutes later, her clothes still drip water as she walks. It leaves a trail that can be easily followed. She should be more careful. Cannons had gone off but she still doesn't know for whom. Enobaria and Brutus could still be out there. Finnick and Johanna. Peeta. She should be more careful about the trail she leaves but she doesn't care. She needs to find Peeta. He had been screaming her name, hadn't he? Right before the world had erupted in light. She needs to find him. That's all she wants. All she had to achieve in the Quarter Quell. Get Peeta out alive. Make him Victor and ensure that Peeta will live the long life he deserves.

She can't actually do that unless she finds him. Despite the chill from the wet clothes, she presses on. It slowly starts to register that this isn't the Clock Arena. There are houses not too far from the fountain she had surfaced in. She isn't dumb. Houses potentially mean people. Peeta must have realized it, too. So long as they're weaponless, they need to get away. She heads towards the woods instead. It must be safe there.

village;

Even after her new situation is explained to her, Katniss still finds herself wary. She carefully starts to explore the village, slowly mapping it out in her mind the best she can. If this is an arena, it's unlike any she's ever heard of. This is a village. Small, like District 12. Functional. It's a good setting for a blood bath but unless the Gamemakers have cameras within every building, entertainment might be mixed.

It isn't an arena. She has to remind herself that. The goal isn't for children to kill each other. There are more people here than the normal twenty-four in the Hunger Games. She remembers Haymitch's year though. Forty-eight children and only Haymitch survived. Madge's aunt had been killed in that arena. Still, if anyone comes near, Katniss will tense and scowl.

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with hunger games: katniss everdeen

Credits & Style Info

[MINGLE] Great Shakes

Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?

[MINGLE] Crab Boil

( OPEN ) I hope you're comfortable in that quiet plastic grave.

it's only water

it's only fire

it's only love

ni leithiad

"With my paintbox I can make..."

ψ haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? | OTA

THE WOODS

THE FIELDS

THE INN

Here's my advice: stay alive

001 🔥strange things did happen here

"I keep wishing I could think of a way to…to show the Capitol they don't own me."

(no subject)

Don't You Fret My Dear, It'll All Be Over Soon; I'll Be Waiting Here For You

obscurial event.

(no subject)