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Perturbed by Your Fascination With Me // [Mace's 10 Yr]
Feb 9, 2015 21:07:16 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Feb 9, 2015 21:07:16 GMT -5
a note from the desk of
Mace Emberstatt
when you never thought that it could ever get this tough,of District Ten
that's when you feel my kind of love
"Panem today. Panem tomorrow. Panem forever."
It was the only comprehensible line in his three minutes and thirty seven second speech.
The spotlight flickered. Mace stepped back; President Snow stepped forward. In the shadows of the most powerful man in the Panem, Mace shivered. Not just in his pinky, or his hand, or his arm. Up and down his spine. His teeth chattered and the crown teetered. He didn't dare correct its course, for fear of knocking it clean off with trembling fingers. He'd done that once already today, and had brought Sundra Wie back from the grave.
In the end, it hadn't been her at all. It had only been him, defenseless against the myriad memories.
President Snow takes control of the microphone, guiding them back to center. The blinding spotlights shifted, haloing the present and leaving Mace in the shadows, like the amassed crowd. Mace intended to sort out familiar faces - Julian, Saffron, Opal, Ara - but instead he couldn't help staring at the butchered bodies hanging from the trees. And the butcher had been sloppy.
The sides of beef and quartered pigs dripped, blood sluicing from frayed edges. Whoever had hacked them hadn't done so with efficiency in mind. Like everything else, they were just for show. It was so wasteful, a mocking of the years he spent herding. The entire affair was an affront to his life in Ten, from the miniature ponies weighed down by fat Capitolites to the ridiculously sheer linen shirt he wore. Ten years ago, all of it would have boiled his blood.
Now, he felt ashamed. Ashamed that he had come to trust some of the Capitolites with the care of his body and his children. Ashamed that he parroted back the words stuffed down his throat, caring only that he be done quickly so as to return to the safety of his Victor family. He was no longer the Bull from Ten, just another drawn and quartered slab of meat, bleeding at the Capitol's request.
President Snow looked to him as he wrapped up his speech. He was supposed to smile, managed some flash of teeth instead. No matter how damning his thoughts, Mace bowed his head at the right time and then fled down the stairs. He had to find Julian. He had to find Arbor or Topaz or Ara or Lethe and ask if they'd been haunted by a voiceless zombie too.
He had to live his life, in the Capitol, another docile cow.
It was the only comprehensible line in his three minutes and thirty seven second speech.
The spotlight flickered. Mace stepped back; President Snow stepped forward. In the shadows of the most powerful man in the Panem, Mace shivered. Not just in his pinky, or his hand, or his arm. Up and down his spine. His teeth chattered and the crown teetered. He didn't dare correct its course, for fear of knocking it clean off with trembling fingers. He'd done that once already today, and had brought Sundra Wie back from the grave.
In the end, it hadn't been her at all. It had only been him, defenseless against the myriad memories.
President Snow takes control of the microphone, guiding them back to center. The blinding spotlights shifted, haloing the present and leaving Mace in the shadows, like the amassed crowd. Mace intended to sort out familiar faces - Julian, Saffron, Opal, Ara - but instead he couldn't help staring at the butchered bodies hanging from the trees. And the butcher had been sloppy.
The sides of beef and quartered pigs dripped, blood sluicing from frayed edges. Whoever had hacked them hadn't done so with efficiency in mind. Like everything else, they were just for show. It was so wasteful, a mocking of the years he spent herding. The entire affair was an affront to his life in Ten, from the miniature ponies weighed down by fat Capitolites to the ridiculously sheer linen shirt he wore. Ten years ago, all of it would have boiled his blood.
Now, he felt ashamed. Ashamed that he had come to trust some of the Capitolites with the care of his body and his children. Ashamed that he parroted back the words stuffed down his throat, caring only that he be done quickly so as to return to the safety of his Victor family. He was no longer the Bull from Ten, just another drawn and quartered slab of meat, bleeding at the Capitol's request.
President Snow looked to him as he wrapped up his speech. He was supposed to smile, managed some flash of teeth instead. No matter how damning his thoughts, Mace bowed his head at the right time and then fled down the stairs. He had to find Julian. He had to find Arbor or Topaz or Ara or Lethe and ask if they'd been haunted by a voiceless zombie too.
He had to live his life, in the Capitol, another docile cow.
