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Darkest Before the Dawn // [Calliope + Mace]
Mar 21, 2015 17:34:13 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Mar 21, 2015 17:34:13 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
He had recently started a list of all the things he hated about the Capitol. President Snow, obviously, the impossible to understand accent, the constant babying of the victors, how much everyone stressed etiquette, and the lack of phone cords. If he didn't have a wire to twist around his fingers, he'd never make it through a conversation with Calliope Bloom.
But he had to try.
It was actually his fourth attempt. The first time, no one answered. The second, they dismissed him with a she's not here. The third time, they denied anyone named Calliope Bloom worked there. He wondered if he'd gotten the number wrong even as he punched it into the slim cordless phone. If he couldn't talk to Calliope, maybe he could find someone who knew her. He couldn't wait until he returned to Ten. This was too important, too weird, too catastrophic.
"Hello?"
"I need to speak to Calliope Bloom. Please don't hang up. It's urgent."
"She shouldn't be taking personal phone calls."
"It ain't personal. It's..." He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs and for a second, stilling the shivering of his fingers. "It's Mace Emberstatt."
The line crackled. He pressed his ear close, listening to the fuzzy connection. He heard a chair squeak against tile, and for a time, it was just him in an spartan room in the Capitol, clinging to a dangling line. It was stupid. Every reporter in all of Panem would be asking him about why he had reached out to Calliope Bloom. He couldn't imagine she'd enjoy the attention either. But what choice did he have?
The moment the connection clicked, breath warming the opposite receiver, Mace plunged ahead. "Calliope, I'm sorry I ain't called in awhile. Do you know how hard it is to get a hold of you? Like tryin' to herd cats. We gotta find a better way, if we can after this. Can't imagine the sort of questions Flickerman's gonna have, but I needed to talk to you. I don't even know where to start or how to say this or how to make you believe me..."
He let out the last whisper of breath he'd been holding. The shivering had started again in earnest, seizing his spine, taking control of his body. His teethed chattered as he spoke again, "I saw Sundra Wie. Alive."
But he had to try.
It was actually his fourth attempt. The first time, no one answered. The second, they dismissed him with a she's not here. The third time, they denied anyone named Calliope Bloom worked there. He wondered if he'd gotten the number wrong even as he punched it into the slim cordless phone. If he couldn't talk to Calliope, maybe he could find someone who knew her. He couldn't wait until he returned to Ten. This was too important, too weird, too catastrophic.
"Hello?"
"I need to speak to Calliope Bloom. Please don't hang up. It's urgent."
"She shouldn't be taking personal phone calls."
"It ain't personal. It's..." He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs and for a second, stilling the shivering of his fingers. "It's Mace Emberstatt."
The line crackled. He pressed his ear close, listening to the fuzzy connection. He heard a chair squeak against tile, and for a time, it was just him in an spartan room in the Capitol, clinging to a dangling line. It was stupid. Every reporter in all of Panem would be asking him about why he had reached out to Calliope Bloom. He couldn't imagine she'd enjoy the attention either. But what choice did he have?
The moment the connection clicked, breath warming the opposite receiver, Mace plunged ahead. "Calliope, I'm sorry I ain't called in awhile. Do you know how hard it is to get a hold of you? Like tryin' to herd cats. We gotta find a better way, if we can after this. Can't imagine the sort of questions Flickerman's gonna have, but I needed to talk to you. I don't even know where to start or how to say this or how to make you believe me..."
He let out the last whisper of breath he'd been holding. The shivering had started again in earnest, seizing his spine, taking control of his body. His teethed chattered as he spoke again, "I saw Sundra Wie. Alive."
