Softies and Hotties [Soft Bois and Hotties!/Day 3]

Cold that runs bone deep, I understand better what that means now. I'm barely leaving footprints through fine powder, immediately filled in by a falling storm. Good for not being followed, bad for feeling like I exist at all. They'll have to suck the snowflakes out of my marrow. My teeth chatter around errant nonsense, "if I had balls they'd be frozen off. and then i wouldn't have balls again. bad day for my balls all around."

Maybe it's better if Izzy and Inga lose my voice to vicious winds. 'Course I'm fucking terrified, but I think I'm doing a pretty good job at pretending I'm stupid instead. Like I'm not even thinking about the way blue tips of my fingers has dulled to sallow gray. I'm carrying around a corpses touch yet I still reach for Izzy because she's made it hard to stand an empty grasp. I've got no warmth to give, it's such a useless kindness it's barely a kindness at all.

They're smart enough to realize we need to get underground - coal mines do not traditionally bode well for canaries, but neither does frostbite. I follow them into the twisting depths without protest. "Oh thank god that's over." I hold out a corner of the winter blanket I'm wrapped in, "You girls ready for a cuddle?"

“Sage, are you ok? How are you holding up?”

ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck.

That's another person. That are not my persons.

"Jericho?" His hands are raised, I don't trust it. He's got people behind him, and I can't see their hands. I step in front of Izzy and Inga, spreading my arms a little wider like that'll hide them at all. "Hey man, you're lookin' mighty frosty. It suits you!"

Ivan is showboating over the loudspeakers, I can't hear him over the blood roaring in my ears. I wonder if Izzy and Inga are creeping around the side, there's no windows to tumble out of this time.

It'd be really fucked up if I had to fight my district partner now - isn't that the shit they save for the grand finale?

(For the people that matter, maybe.)

"I'm doing... as well as you can expect. That storm sure is something, isn't it?"

Even in the Hunger Games, there's no escaping small talk.

That is, until the walls start trembling. "You're kidding! You're fucking kidding me!" That's on me for jinxing it, I'll take the blame for this one. X marks the spot. Right between my eyes, through the bone to the gooey shit inside. The tunnels groan and shift, a chunk of the ceiling misses me by an inch. "Walk and talk!"

I shove Izzy and Inga's shoulders, but I don't run until I see their feet move.

From the mouth of the mines, the wind howls. The three of them have tucked themselves under the overhang to watch the snow. The beaming above them creaks under the weight of the accumulation.

"You get your game now." Inga mutters as Korsch's disembodied voice echoes its way throughout the tunnels.

It's not exactly a bad thing. Maybe they can use the fact that they're already in the Mines to their advantage. The other tributes will be flocking here soon, but Inga and the girls have home advantage. She's been eyeing the support structures as they go, testing the weak spots in the floor planks too. They could have a few precious moments of preparation before the real fun starts.

One of the oil lamps suddenly swings a little too viciously to be natural. The system broadcasting Korsch's voice crackles again, but there's someone else, there's footsteps, there's-

"Sage-"

Inga whirls.

People already. Three of them. Too friendly to be harmless.

A gentle little rumbling then. Something far away. Inga tries to go for her nasty little makeshift spear without making it too obvious. She tilts her head to hear the noise better.

A bat dislodges itself from the ceiling and then disappears further down into the shadows.

Sage is suddenly pushing and pulling as the way they came from, down the tunnel, begins to crumble. A cloud of dust watches over the passage towards them. A long, long hairline fractures starts to splinter where the wall meets the roof.

One of the boys is trying to talk to her.

Inga scowls. Then immediately reaches to push him into the path of the rubble.

The three boys are all attached like silly little dominos. That's fine. Great even. Not even because it makes them a bigger target.

Three birds, one debris chunk.

So much for a subtle approach. Antifreeze is sweet to the tongue, warm in stomachs. They wouldn't have even noticed the knives in their backs if I kept a smile on my face. I do not have the brutality of Inga or the clever wit of Izzy but I can feign kindness. This heart on my sleeve bleeds, and so many will scent the air and mistake it for weakness.

It's not like I want to be a killer, but anything's better than being dead.

"You stay away from her, Jericho." Sharper than I meant, glancing back over my shoulder to the fresh wounds on Inga. Worry pangs, I think she'd hate how scared I am for her.

I keep using names like we're familiar, like we owe each other something 'cause we come from the same soil. Sentimentality can keep us safe. If not I'll carve my name into his chest and haunt him in the puckered skin. My eyes find the rope tied around them all, and my thoughts are horrible and cruel.

But the mine's still collapsing. I've lost track of the the turns we take, the sharp curves that catch my shins.

"No time for gay shit, Rhys the sky's falling!"

Laughter steals precious breath, I stumble hard into the wall. The friction burns and I don't think there will be any skin left on it by the time I push myself to my feet. Knees jelly, aching aching aching.

I won't die here.

I can't.

Izzy gets her before the ceiling does.

Lucky, all things considered.

Still, Inga gets the satisfaction of making contact with Garnet, of watching him trip and take the other two with him. She gets the satisfaction of the debris hitting her ankle in the collateral, a worthy kind of pain, and she can feel a tendon down there twist wrong. She pretends that Izzy isn't propping her up now. She forces her heel back into the ground, feeling the grit of her boot. Satisfaction in that too.

And the one who called to Sage so familiarly, she gets the sudden satisfaction of watching him spin around with the least-imaginative threat she's ever heard.

Inga hisses in Izzy's grip, grinding her back molars down to near nothing.

"Come on then," She taunts, straining against but not breaking the hold, "Try it."

One of the supports beams along the wall gives a mighty crack and then splits, toppling and crashing to the ground in splinters. Izzy is tugging Inga by the jacket, momentum collision, she's trying to say something appeasing and Inga is snarling, scoffing, "He wants it-

The quiet one hiding behind his friends looks confused, looks a little soft, questioning. If he wants to fight, well, Inga is already ready. She's been ready for three days, she's impatient with it now. Even Sage is there, snapping with her blunt teeth. Even after the stumble, Inga makes a frustrated sort of sound and reaches for her.

Izzy's hands on Inga, Inga's hands on Sage - "Stay up, idiot."

"You stay away from her, Jericho." Sage tries to warn me.

“She pushed Garnet first so don’t be a fucking hypocrite and tell her to back off Sage.” I warn in return, venom and anger dripping from my voice. “If she wants a fight, she needs to be prepared to follow through on her actions. I don’t give a shit if she’s a career or not.” These girls are managing to get under my skin and I hate that I’m letting them.

If she wants to be a cunt who starts shit and then tries to act coy so be it. I won’t be surprised when it gets her killed. I can’t focus on her shitty attitude though, I need focus on protecting Rhys and Garnet. They’re the only things that matter in the Arena. If Sage doesn’t care about our District ties, then I’ll have to kill her to. Granted, I’m going to have to kill everyone else to keep us safe. I thought that we could at least be human about it but I guess Careers have the humanity trained out of them, just like the Gamemakers.

Is that how I am going to view everyone else though, as not human? We’ve managed to avoid people after the bloodbath but now that the Gamemakers are forcing us together, I guess we really don’t have a choice but to fight soon.

It’s easy enough to view the two girls as less than though. I don’t know them, I can convince myself that their lives mean nothing. I hate that I’m starting to think like this, but how else am I going to survive? The rumbling of the cave shakes and rattles my trains of thought, but I find that refocusing on protecting Garnet and Rhys helps me focus. At least focus on staying on my feet and avoiding the rubble for now.

I do push Sage’s friend when she gets too close though.