♛ the war's not over {saffron : rubik : klaus} ♛

if you are afraid don't be, i have the whole thing planned
we'll start in the ocean, baby, and when we find the land
we will be thankful to all of our friends
that they didn't leave us as we got to the end

She speaks words that are not her own - Words that I have heard time, and time again, not just spoken by Klaus and Saffron, but by every single Victor. I can remember the same damn words being spoken by Arbor Halt when I was eleven years old. Nothing ever changes. It's different Victors from different Games but they're always the same. Heartless. It makes my blood boil that they don't tell us how they really feel. I don't know what I expected from Saffron Lowe - She never even spoke to Hope, as far as I am aware. I expected more, and I not quite sure why.

Maybe I'm looking for a reason to justify all this.

Hitchcock gives my arm a reassuring squeeze, but the warm gesture does nothing for me. I am cold and broken. I tried to become closer to Hitch, that was my goal, but I find myself drained of all motivation. The Capitol's iron fist oppresses us all, but it is those of us who have lost so much that feel it's cold grip the most. Saffron Lowe's robotic words have served as a reminder - She is a puppet of the Capitol too, but in a very different way. She is the bridge between Districts and Capitol. A spokesperson. I find myself wondering what it would be like, had Hope won. The idea of Hope killing someone is barbaric. In a way I'm glad she died without taking someone else's life - That is, if you exclude my life. She took that, all right. Had she won, would she be this powerless and emotionless? The Hope I knew always voiced her opinions. I just wonder if the Games would have changed her.

Murmured voices wash through my ears, and in this sea of distorted sounds I can hear Hitchcock's raspy tone urging me off the stage and down into the crowd below. It's over. I can go home. In the end we're just faces to her, faces in a crowd. She doesn't know our names, or what we've been through. We're nobodies, just like the other nonentities she repeats these words to at every District. It's a routine, and the routine doesn't change for Hope Woodards, no more than it changes when she talks to Emery Moreno's family, or Shadow Bison's. She doesn't recognize me any more than them. She was too young to know the 61st Games. She would have been seven or eight years old. My eyes wash over with tears, and I'm sure that Hitch is asking me something, but I can't hear him. I don't even want to try.

Down into the crowd. An arm around my shoulder leads me twisting and turning through the channels of people, helping me escape from the grim truth of it all. I'm not special, and neither was Hope. I wish I had a happy place to go to, but the reality is that I don't. It sounds bleak but I have no happiness left in my life. If I try and think back to when I had Pandora - my other half - and Dad, and Hope, I'm just left feeling so bare when I am dragged back to this surreal world, where I am stripped of everyone I love. I can't even see Senalia anymore, a girl who I used to be able to talk to about Pandora. When Hope died, it was just too much. Senalia helped me get over Pandora, but she could never help fill the void of my little sister. She doesn't care about me either, it seems. I haven't seen her in about a year.

So I turn to the one person I do have - My bastard brother. His arm around my shoulder and his soft words in my ear should be enough to comfort me, but they set me on edge. It shouldn't be this way. The Capitol has ruined both of our lives, and the lives of others too. They are untouchable - There is nothing we can do to stop the killings. There is no revenge that can be taken. The rebellion was crushed, and I am but one broken boy with his head in the wrong place.

"Get away from me!" I shove Hitchcock under his arm, shifting his center of balance and toppling him to the dirt. He shouts angrily as he hits the ground, clearly stunned by my actions. I've never been a violent person, that was Pandora's key trait. When I was younger I was very much the pacifist. I think the only person I ever hit was Pan', and that was because he pretended to be me so he could sleep with a girl I was dating. The only fight I've been in was with Cyrus Malloc's brother, who came to District Eight looking for me. He smashed me through a brick wall, breaking my arm and knocking out one of my teeth. Needless to say, I'm not a very competent fighter, but today there is a fire inside of me.

Hitch is already up and storming towards me with a dark stride in his step. When he grabs me by the shoulders, it doesn't take half a second for me to drive my knee upwards into his stomach. His mouth opens but no noise comes out. There are gasps all around us as I lash out with a left swing, connecting with one of his ribs. Hitch lived on the streets for years, fighting drug dealers and morphine addicts. I knew from the off that this was a bad idea - but it's an idea nonetheless. I should have told him about it, instead of leaving him feeling betrayed. He punches me in the square in the jaw, sending me spinning head-first to the ground. My head rings and I groan. Ripred. This was dumb.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He says, towering above me with clenched fists and a pale face. I'm sorry Hitch, but this is the only way. I need to get the Peacekeepers attention. He realizes this all too late, as he is swarmed by white uniformed men. A fight has broken out not too far from the stage between two siblings of a fallen Tribute, right when the cameras are rolling. Needless to say, they aren't lenient with us. I'm dragged to my feet, and my face is shown to all of Panem. No turning back now.

I was always going to do this. I decided it weeks ago. Cause trouble, get caught. As the white soldiers drag me through the crowd I make sure that my backpack is still on my shoulders, and that my head is in the right place. Yeah, right. Like any of this is a sane idea. They usually shoot people for stuff like this, but us being who we are, and being on television, we are not shot. Our fate is undecided, it seems, as they take us exactly where I hoped they would - towards the Justice Building.

This is a mess. If you could see me now, Pandora, would you be ashamed of me? I have punched my half-brother in the face after all the compassion he has showed me, and he doesn't even know why. Saffron Lowe is still on stage, obviously proceedings have stopped with the outbreak of Hitch and I's fight. All eyes aren't on her, but are on me instead. Hitch is fighting to break free, to get at me. I have betrayed him, Ripred forgive me. I have attacked my own kin for this. We are dragged up onto the stage, and Hitch is shoved inside the Justice Building, where he will receive his Justice for spoiling the Capitol's party. What I am about to do, is for all the people who have died for me. It's for all the people that the Capitol has ripped from my life, and this is my revenge. I am in touching distance of Saffron Lowe, and that is all I need.

I take the Peacekeepers by surprise, shifting my weight backwards and lashing out with a sharp elbow to the side of the helmet. My humerus bone triggers and a sharp stinging shoots up my forearm. Ripred forgive me. I break from their grasp and swing my shoulder-bag over my shoulder, taking out the bottle of Chloroform as I run forwards. Ripred forgive me. I douse the fabric with the chemical, drop the bottle and in one swift motion I grab Saffron Lowe, and clasp the fabric over her mouth and nose.

Ripred forgive me.

if you find your faith in your parents' god
don't be so quick to point out the flaws in it
you've been around and you've seen the way that things work
but you need a compass to get around your house

oh no i see
a spider web it's tangled up with me
and I lost my head
the thought of all the stupid things i said

Her body kicks out, desperately trying to break from my grasp. The chemicals infiltrate her system and almost immediately shut her down. Her limbs lose strenth and the resistance stops. She falls into a deep sleep, but still I keep my grip on her. Peacekeepers surround me, some shouting demands, others pointing guns at my head. Go ahead. Make my day. There are screams from the crowd as mothers cushion their children from the violent scenes unfolding. Most people are just staring, waiting to see what will happen next. They're gonna try to kill me, so I need to act fast. Now.

I hoist Saffron's body up, holding her neck in the crook of my right arm. I take a few steps back, shooting glances at any Peacekeeper that tries to get to close.
"Back off!" I shout, tightening my grip on the little girl. It would be so easy to snap her neck, so quick. My only worry is that they could shoot me quicker than I could react. I have to use Saffron as a meat shield as well as a hostage. My plan was never concrete, more of a loose plan. If I can get to the woods then I'll be alright. I know of an abandoned hunting lodge in the east. I'll take her there and then-... And then figure out what to do with her.

"Rubik, don't do this!" I hear Hitchcock's voice straining against the commotion. I don't need my little bastard brother's advice. He failed to listen to mine year after year, now the roles are reversed why should I listen to him? He's selfish. All of them are selfish. They just want to look like the good guys in all of this. Make out that I'm the evil one.
"NO!" I shout, threatening to snap Saffron's neck by hoisting her higher and closer to my face. The Peacekeepers back off a little, their aim blocked by Saffron's head. They can't risk it.

"I'm doing this for Hope and for Pandora!" I reveal, "Because you-..." I nod at the Peacekeepers who wear the badge of the Capitol so proudly, "BECAUSE YOU TOOK THEM FROM ME!"
They took everything from me. They took my twin brother and made me feel like half of a whole, and then after years of grief and recovery, they took the only thing I had left - Hope. Then they expect me to turn up and applaud this little girl, to celebrate her victory? They are much stupider than they look.
"AND NOW I'M GONNA TAKE SOMETHING FROM YOU!" I drop the bottle of chloroform at my feet and dart away to the left as the Peacekeepers cough and splutter in the wake of the chemicals.

The crowd part for me, supporting me. Some even go as far as to hold back the Peacekeepers, buying me time. They know what I've been through, and they support me. I don't feel so alone after all. I break into the woods, lifting Saffron onto my shoulder so I can run faster. The high canopy of the forest blocks nearly all of the sunlight, making it look and feel like the night from down below. The sounds of the wild mob back in the District square fade fast behind me, becoming nothing more than whispers in the wind. I keep glancing over my shoulder for any flashes of white between the trees. They will follow me no doubt. These woods aren't infinite. I'd be astounded if they weren't setting up a perimeter already, trapping me in these woods like the animal I am. That's alright, because I don't intend to survive this.

These woods aren't restricted like some might be in other Districts. Eight is a fabric producing District, meaning we mainly consist of cotton farms and factories. There isn't much land left for agriculture, so a lot of food comes from hunting. This is good for trade too, because there are a lot of materials that come from the pelts of wild animals. It kills two birds with one stone. Pan and I used to play here. Father would never take his eyes off us, in case we wandered off and ran into dangerous animals or hunters not paying attention, but he'd let us play. I close my eyes and hear him, his laugh curses these woods.

After twenty minutes or so I reach the hunting lodge. It is run down, long abandoned after the Capitol invested more money into better facilities further downstream. I set Saffron down on the porch and try the door. It's locked - No surprises there. I throw my shoulder against the wood with a grunt, trying to break the rusted and frail lock. With a few more barges the metal gives way and the door violently swings open. The interior is dank and sodden, the wood nearly black from rot. The stench is musty and foul, but it will do. I take saffron inside, setting her down in a wooden chair that just about stands upright.

When I tie her up, I make sure her hands are bound at the wrists and her body secured to the back of the chair. When I am certain she can't escape, I move over to the window and peer out. Sooner or later they'll find me. I'm on borrowed time, so I gotta make good use of it. Get my message out.

oh no what's this
a spider web and I'm caught in the middle
so i turned to run
the thought of all the stupid things i've done