sixthiteration | Test Drive 17

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→ Choose one of the scenarios below or make up your own. Feel free to try multiple scenarios.

→ Write LOGS or TEXT prompts, or both.

→ THERE ARE ONLY THREE RULES FOR THE TDM:

1. It has to take place in the 6I universe.
2. It cannot be the character's arrival into the game.
3. Please only test new characters who do not have a version in the game. Our cast list is here.

→ TDM threads cannot be used to meet AC, but if the character is accepted into the game and both players agree, you may keep the CR.

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Prompts

It's springtime in your brand-new home, villagers! Many exciting new experiences await you, although you might want to take care; not all are for the faint of heart.

NEW FRIENDS - Congratulations, you are now the lucky recipient of the undying love and devotion of your very own CROC-DOG. Maybe you fed it, or maybe you just didn't run away screaming when you saw it. Regardless, it's your buddy now through thick and thin. Constantly. Everywhere. All the time. We hope you're up for some companionship!

LET YOUR EENT SHINE DOWN - You've come across a SHINE BIRD. You heard its call. Now you can expect an hour's worth of sudden, intense increase in one of four emotions: Joy, sorrow, rage or loneliness. It's entirely possible you'll be apologizing to some people tomorrow.

SPRING IN SPRING - Hey look, it's everybody's favorite prompt: It's warm enough now that it's not completely crazy to go have a dip in the HOT SPRINGS. Naked. And then accidentally get caught.

WILDCARD - Choose your own adventure. Maybe play powers roulette.

Texts

All characters are fitted with a smart watch-like device on their left wrist, which they can use to send text messages to other villagers.

- Texts may only be 140 characters long
- No video or voice, text only
- No usernames, everyone is listed by their name

Please list your CHARACTER NAME, CANON & PROMPT in your SUBJECT LINE.

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II. (Sorrow)

There's a bird chirping somewhere nearby, and while some might find that a cheerful sound, Haymitch doesn't. He wouldn't anyway, even if this was a normal bird, but it's not, and his mood is the opposite of cheerful.

He doesn't even notice the difference, not really, because he spends most of his time feeling like this anyway. Most of the time he can (mostly) function in spite of the memories. He's found ways of pushing them to the side when it's necessary (which is often), but now, since he's been sitting here on this porch listening to this stupid bird chirping, he can't push them aside anymore.

But he has to. These memories are dangerous. These memories bring up all of the things he won't allow himself to admit he feels, and what escapes his lips isn't a sob but the effort of keeping one in. He can't let them see him like this. All of these things he wants to let out, he can't let it be know that they're there. The people who broke him can't know how well it worked.

Their names threaten to break free, and he claps his hands over his mouth. Names are all he has left, and he won't let those be taken from him too.

III.

Here's the thing about surviving the worst Panem has to offer: even when no one's watching, you assume that someone is watching. Which is why, when Haymitch finally ventures out of the house where he has holed up and ends up at the hot springs, he doesn't undress completely. It might make bathing awkward, but no one's going to see anything they shouldn't.

It might be decades since he was in the arena, and for most of the year, he's mostly left alone, but he'd learned a lesson well, even if it hadn't been the exact lesson the Capitol had wanted him to learn.

His clothes and boots are shoved in a nook between two rocks, hidden from the sight of anyone who may approach. (Don't tempt others with items that can be stolen; another lesson he picked up long ago.) All except his underwear, which he's still wearing. It's better than wearing nothing, and even that can't hide the scars that mar his skin.

He's too complacent. He doesn't notice someone coming up to the hot springs.

At first Finnick doesn't notice anything particularly wrong or unusual about Haymitch. It's Haymitch; his default mood has always seemed to be somewhere between sullen and despondent, and that's just how he is, like Johanna's always bristling with anger and Annie often looks like she's ready to hide. They're victors; he didn't know Haymitch before the Games, but Finnick knows that the victor who comes out of the arena isn't the child who went in.

It's only when Haymitch slaps his hands over his mouth that Finnick actually sees just how dejected the set of the man's shoulders is, the look on his face that the younger man doesn't want to study too closely. But Haymitch is one of the few people here from Panem, and ... they have more in common than just that, sworn secret allies in revolution that they are.

Finnick doesn't say anything, but he stops, leaning against one of the porch railings. He's no slender shadow; if Haymitch's mind is somewhere in the vicinity of this part of reality, Finnick will be hard to miss, even if he's not in his red scrubs. Instead, he's dressed stylishly, albeit in clothes that are by now a little dirty: pale pants, blue coat, white button-down shirt. His hair's longer than he wears in Panem, too, a little overgrown (though nothing near as bad as it was when he'd first appeared out of the fountain). And, of course, the piercing green of his eyes is as obvious as ever in a face tanned by constant sun.

Yeah. Haymitch will notice him.

Edited 2018-04-27 00:12 (UTC)

Of course Haymitch knows Finnick is there. Finnick is hard to miss, peacocking around like he does. Whether Finnick wants the attention or not, he gets it. Which, unfortunately, Haymitch knows a thing or two about himself.

He hadn't wanted anyone to witness that reaction, even if he hadn't been able to do much to prevent it. But at least if someone has to see it, it's someone who knows what's behind it. That's something he doesn't want to have to explain to anyone. How do you explain that to someone who doesn't already know it?

He turns and looks back at Finnick, saying nothing for a moment. "You might as well sit down."

It's nearly impossible for Finnick not to draw attention, whether he wants to or not. It always has been, even since long before he was famous. He'd been a beautiful child long before he was a beautiful man, and people had noticed him, before he'd been famous across Panem. It had long been rarer for people not to notice him than to do so, and the time he's spent in these new strange arenas still hasn't entirely changed his expectations.

Haymitch is different, though. He knows Haymitch, in the way that the mentors who compete against each other annually do, but also in the secret whispers of the nascent plans of the rebellion. Haymitch is far older than Finnick, victor of the last Quarter Quell, but the age difference matters less than the things they have in common. So he nods and steps up onto the porch, settling himself down near Haymitch.

"Something going on?" he asks, softly.

"Nothing different than any other day." Which is the truth. He doesn't know why this feeling had so suddenly come over him so much more intensely than he normally feels it. It's just there.

Not that he'd mention it if there was something else behind this. Not because of Finnick; he might be a peacock, but he's also a fellow victor, and an ally. He wouldn't mention something out in the open here because there is always someone watching, and he's not giving the Capitol any more fuel to use against him. He's risking his life enough by being involved in the rebellion, even if he's not on the front lines.

"Maybe it's just all the waiting for what happens next."

In Haymitch's defense, Katniss has always been quiet on her feet. She keeps her steps as light as possible in this place, not trusting it, and she wants to observe more than she wants to be observed. It had been this gift of hers that had led to her survival in her first games; keep to the trees, keep quiet, keep moving. Never let them see you break.

She'd come to the pool to soak as well, to tend to old injuries that make her feel like her games were fifteen years ago instead of just months ago, and she's not shocked to see Haymitch doing the same.

"I haven't found any alcohol for you yet," Katniss says clearly. She knows it will startle him but she raises her voice before she approaches, giving him a chance to collect himself before looking at her.

"Too bad I don't know how to make it myself."

It does startle him, being suddenly addressed like that, like it will always startle him to discover another person when he's not expecting anyone. But at least it's only a momentary startlement and as soon as he's determines it's Katniss and not a threat of some sort, he eases back into the water. He shrugs, a bit dispiritedly. He hasn't felt the effects of the lack of alcohol as much as he expected to, but he still wishes he had some method of being able to sleep at night.

It's like being back in District 13.

"There may be someone around here who does." The white liquor he used to drink in Panem was made out of whatever was available, after all. The same thing could happen here.

Not that he's made a habit of asking. He doesn't want all the questions that would come in reply.

"I'd think they would have already figured it out. A black market isn't really hard to start - it's just hard to keep hidden."

The black market in 12 had done well for a long time, flourishing because the peacekeepers there just didn't care enough to break it up. Katniss thinks something like that might work well here, too, if there were enough illicit goods to get it started.

"Are you still getting sick without it?"

"Maybe they have." Everyone in 12 had known about the black market, because everyone in 12 had been born there and therefore been there from the start. Maybe in this place, wherever this is, it's hidden from the newcomers until one of them finds it. He certainly wouldn't tell someone he didn't know about something illicit until he knew he could trust them.

"Not as much as I was." Some still, but it has eased somewhat. It's why he had ventured out today instead of staying in the house. But he knows that he's got a long way ahead of him yet before it's over completely.

"Good. Because I'm not as nice as Peeta is about it," Katniss says, even though it's not really necessary. She's never had Peeta's skill with people and her patience with Haymitch is usually thin and frayed even when he's not suffering through withdrawal. She's never been addicted to anything. She doesn't intend to start.

"It's probably better you just quit cold turkey anyway, I guess. Not likely we can make anything here without a couple months for it to lay in the ground and by the time it was even worth drinking, you'd be out of the worst of the sickness. I know why you do it but still - a clear head keeps you safer."

"I noticed that about you." It had been pretty obvious, from the start. Even during the mentoring. Katniss was the one with the skills for survival, but Peeta was the friendly face, the one he could easily find sponsorship for. Katniss had been a hard sell in the Capitol.

"Are you trying your hand at mentoring now?" It's advice that is about as helpful as the first advice he'd given her and Peeta.

"Hardly. I need you alive so you can keep me alive. It's strictly selfish," Katniss says. That's not really the truth but it's easier to say something barbed than to admit she does have feelings for Haymitch. He'd been a stumbling, annoying drunk when she first met him but now, on the other side of victory, she knows that everyone has to do something to cope with the survivor's guilt. Haymitch had turned to alcohol. The victors from 6 had turned to morphling.

"No tremors? No headaches, no vomiting? I'm not as good with medicine as my mother but I can try."

"You're pretty good at that all by yourself." Seeing as she had kept not only herself alive to make it out of the arena but Peeta too. Twice, even. It's hard enough to do once. He knows, all too well.

He knows that there's a building here that some call a hospital, and that there are some who work there, providing aid to those who need it. Their abilities might be closer to Katniss' mother's skills than Katniss' more limited skills, but he doesn't know them. For all he knows, they're working for the Capitol.

He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes. Part of the reason for coming to the hot springs had been to try and get some relief, but it hasn't helped much so far. "It's just headaches now." And the nightmares, but he'd have those anyway.

“Headaches can be just as painful,” Katniss says. She might not be as empathetic as some but she does worry about Haymitch and she doesn’t want him suffering. For one, she needs his help. He knows more about arenas than anyone else here and she needs his experiences to be able to survive this one.

“My mother used to use willow bark for them - when she couldn’t get morphling, anyway.” She rarely had access to it other than from Mayor Undersee’s wife.

"If you can find some, I'll drink anything you give me." Which isn't something he'd say to most people, or at least not those from Twelve. He doubts that even if she could find morphling here that she'd give him any, because morphling does the same thing alcohol does, and he knows well how she feels about that.

"If you think it will help."

"It'll keep you from hallucinating," Katniss says dryly. "If you're going to be of any use to me out here, I need you in your right mind."

Haymitch can be somewhat functional on a certain amount of alcohol and it is key to maintain that level - no more and no less.

"Yes ma'am." Katniss is the one who knows how to hunt, and to forage. If she's going to be of use to him, he'll do as she says. It wasn't his his ability to acquire food that kept him alive in the arena, after all. (Not that such an ability would have been of any use at the time anyway.)

"You're just going to agree that easily? Maybe I should have promised you alcohol before," Katniss says, laughing a little at how simple it was to win that battle. Not all battles are easily won, though, and she sighs a little and rubs the bridge of her nose as she thinks.

"We have to figure out how to get out of here, what the trick of it is."

"Sometimes you know what you're talking about." And it makes sense to listen when she does. Besides, he needs things from her, too. Arguing with her will get him nowhere.

"There's no force field this time." Or at least not one that he's found, and yes, he's looked. It would seem that they're learning. "How they're keeping everyone in is still a mystery."

"It just seems like this place goes on forever. I wouldn't need that many supplies to go out and try to find the edge of it, not really. The land seems like it's full of game. I haven't had anyone trying to kill me and it doesn't seem like these gamesmakers are very interested in programming hardships," Katniss says.

"I could probably just hunt and camp my way across the whole place until I got out. Wherever out is, anyway."

"I'm sure you could." She has the skills for it, for sure. And she's right, there haven't been many threats to their survival by those who set this up. Not directly, anyway, which is what the gamemakers like to do best.

And he's not going to suggest that she take anyone with her. She wouldn't, and the whole point of the games is to get yourself out, not to drag half the arena with you. "Once you find the way out."

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Test Drive 17

Haymitch Abernathy | The Hunger Games | 2 & 3

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Re: Haymitch Abernathy | The Hunger Games | 2 & 3

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