what we deserve {v+v+a}

It was all over Capitol news: a freshly-crowned victor was in their midst. The ceremony of his crowning was being replayed over and over until Venus could recite every word of it aloud, which was irritating because his attendance to that ceremony had been mandatory. He didn’t need to see it fifty more times with added subtitles. The only segment he cared about was the Games recap video. It was all of his pride and joy compiled into one clip to remind this victor of what was sacrificed in order to save his life. This included every little detail that he had perhaps missed – the maiming of Carrita, the decapitation of Timothy, the multiple immolations, and the blood-filled cages. Needless to say, Venus was satisfied with their hard work. The games had been a success.

However, he didn’t necessarily have to agree with the outcome. All of his personal favorites had been killed for a scrawny, District Three boy to rise above them. He had to ask himself: what did this kid deserve, and why? But the answer was always that it didn’t matter. The Games were a mixture of luck, skill, odds, and motivation. Atticus managed to beat all of these. It was admittedly impressive, and therefore it could be argued that he had earned this victory. But it would never be anything Venus ever wanted.

He chose to take it lightly. He didn’t personally approve of the situation, but at least he was a higher District and not a terrible human being. He couldn’t imagine having to sit across from Celia Mortuus, especially after Vepar ordered the whippings of her family members.

How awkward.

Instead, they would be sharing a dinner table with the boy who flipped them off during his training session. A big “fuck you” to the Gamemakers didn’t mean shit unless one had the skills to survive. He didn’t, really, but he had his allies throughout most of the Games. That was all he needed. He knew Vepar wasn’t happy about it, and would not warm up to the idea as quickly as Venus had. He was stubborn in that sense. Meanwhile, Venus had the adopted the “it could be worse” attitude. They were forced to have dinner with their victor regardless. It wouldn’t be someone as pleasant as Kite or as fiery as Danny, but he couldn’t be that bad.

They had reserved the entire second floor of a restaurant to keep eager Capitolites downstairs and at bay. Venus arrived early to take his seat, order a glass of wine, and mentally prepare himself for the dinner. He had no idea what their guest would say, if he said anything at all. He was dining with the two twins that tried to kill him, after all. Even Venus was not blind to that tension. The boy could even curse them out if he wanted. It would be poor etiquette, and Venus would have to contact his escort to ensure he didn’t screw up his Victory Tour with such a poor attitude, but he was mentally prepared for anything. Bring on the middle fingers.

Vepar arrived several minutes later. He had kindly asked that his brother take care of a few things with Sun, and assure him that the both of them would be home on time tonight. He knew Sun was worried about him. It had been obvious, even on his birthday. Sun was ready for both of them to come home again, and for Venus especially to start catching up on lost sleep. Believe me, I feel the same. He wished he could convey to Sun how sorry he was. He wanted sleep just as badly as the next overworked individual, but there were a still a few things left that needed to be taken care of. This dinner was one of them.

He swirled the wine in his glass. ”This should be fun,” he said flatly, taking a small sip of his favorite brand. It was sweet enough to distract him from the home stresses. Disappointing Sun was one of the worst feelings in the world, he discovered. He wished he could drink enough to incapacitate himself, but that would be irresponsible. Atticus would be here any moment, escorted by staff members in one of their expensive vehicles. The waiter was already staring at them from across the room. His black suit was illuminated by hanging lamps with lavender lights. Despite dreading the dinner, he could admire the restaurant’s atmosphere. Dark and lavish.

He sipped more wine and prayed that tonight would not be a migraine.