the old guard [charlie & anarcha]
Jan 5, 2020 19:39:02 GMT -5
Post by shrimp on Jan 5, 2020 19:39:02 GMT -5
charlie garnet
she/her | capitol | former gm | hg museum
"Hmm."
She gives her fellow a wry grin. It's been years (though shorter than she feels) since she began trembling her way to sobriety: First cutting back to just wine, then just red wine with dinner. But she never ate much, and one glass turned to a bottle, and in the morning Xenia would cut her hangover with little "pick-me-ups" and an unfeeling face.
This is the first time that she is at a ball without a beverage. It used to ground her enough to answer questions - she still remembers those first few interviews when all she had to stand on was an unreasonable amount of liquid confidence and a long-term practice of speaking crisply. It helped her then, but not now.
"Thank you, but-" she says, followed by the polite response. "Detoxing." It is a pointed word, a phrase flung halfheartedly, hiding the illness beneath a veil of self-care and temporary abstinence. For without drink, without excess, there is no Capitol.
"And we know better?" Charlie smiles. Of course they don't - the games was all that they were, and now they scramble to find missing pieces.
But they are black sheep now, and there is strength in shadows. "It's good to see you."
she/her | capitol | former gm | hg museum
"Hmm."
She gives her fellow a wry grin. It's been years (though shorter than she feels) since she began trembling her way to sobriety: First cutting back to just wine, then just red wine with dinner. But she never ate much, and one glass turned to a bottle, and in the morning Xenia would cut her hangover with little "pick-me-ups" and an unfeeling face.
This is the first time that she is at a ball without a beverage. It used to ground her enough to answer questions - she still remembers those first few interviews when all she had to stand on was an unreasonable amount of liquid confidence and a long-term practice of speaking crisply. It helped her then, but not now.
"Thank you, but-" she says, followed by the polite response. "Detoxing." It is a pointed word, a phrase flung halfheartedly, hiding the illness beneath a veil of self-care and temporary abstinence. For without drink, without excess, there is no Capitol.
"And we know better?" Charlie smiles. Of course they don't - the games was all that they were, and now they scramble to find missing pieces.
But they are black sheep now, and there is strength in shadows. "It's good to see you."
