First shot ; video

[hungover]

[There is the tell-tale sound of heaving in the background. The communicator is on its side, camera facing a cup of some clear alcohol on ice that's swirling in a tumbler. Where did this mysterious alcohol come from when Haymitch appears to be newly-arrived, you ask? We may never know.

His cheek is still stinging from where Katniss had gouged him, but it was a dull thrum that didn't seem so bad when he couldn't see straight. Eventually, he manages to get the camera upright and gives it a winning grin – or it would be winning, if there wasn't the telltale glisten of vomit on his lower lip. Some might not notice that.]

So, we're in for another Game. Different rules, sure, and a real 'battle', but – [and he waves his hand toward the camera,] – still. I should introduce myself, if that's the case.

[He makes a mostly-unsuccessful attempt to straighten himself up a little, leaning heavily on the outside wall of the nearest building before forcing himself to his feet and dipping himself in a sloppy bow.]

Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the second Quarter Quell. I come from District 12, home of coal and very little else.. This place is at least less of a violent assault on the senses than the Capitol – nobody's hair has made me shield my eyes yet. That's something.

[He produces a flask from his jacket pocket and places it to his lips, tipping it completely upside-down to suck the last few drops from it.]

Tell me, fellow captives -- how do you feel about the likelihood we'll be forced to kill people we know nearly nothing about in the name of this place's 'freedom'?

Comments

voice

[theguideless]

It... [a beat, catching himself.

a sharp exhale. quieter:] It's not a game...

Video;

[hungover]

And what makes you sure of that?

[theguideless]

[beat.]

Games are...supposed to be fun. [aren't they? he sounds a little dubious. hell if he knows.]

[hungover]

That all depends on the rules.

[theguideless]

Huh...?

But. [beat.] Why?

[hungover]

Because not all games are for fun.

[theguideless]

Then...What are games for? All of them, I mean.

[hungover]

They all serve a purpose. Some games teach children how to complete a task, other games pit children against each other to the death to teach the adults not to rebel.

[theguideless]

[beat.]

That's...n—hh.

...Doesn't...sound. Right...

[hungover]

That's how it is.

[He pauses, though.]

Where I'm from, at least.

[theguideless]

[a lengthy pause to digest that.]

...Everyone's...alright with that? Where you're from, I mean. They're human children, right? Or...[or maybe it's like Darkovs. and in that case, he's OK with it.]

[hungover]

Everyone doesn't have much of a choice.

[He ... pauses.]

But saying they're all right with it is a stretch. And yes, as human as can be -- flesh and blood.

[theguideless]

That's...

My world wouldn't...allow that. Ever.

[hungover]

Lucky for you, then.

[theguideless]

[an uncomfortable pause.]

Sorry.