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[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

"You're doing pretty well at it now" she chuckled, smiling a bit as she finished dabbing, tossing the towel behind the bar as she sat down beside him. "You're a bit crass. And arrogant. But don't worry, the Capitol will love hat. You'll have donations coming in..." she trailed off, losing herself in thought. Of how she had no one to help, alone...She turned and looked out at the tracks behind them for a long time in silence.

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She looked back at him with large gray owl's eyes and a blank face, studying his expression. "I'm fine Haymitch." she smiled weakly, brushing past him, her skirt swaying with slightest movement as she poured herself a drink. She took a long moment to drink it, staring at some point on the wall that had nothing on it, before speaking. "The Capitol is so out of touch. They want someone handsome and likeable. Someone like you" she spoke, turning to face him.

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She rolled her eyes in half anger as she walked barefoot into the kitchen, putting a pt of tea on. A red headed, teen avox came rushing out of a conjoined apartment, struggling to get his pants on as he rushed to her side. She waved him off. "I'm okay, Marcus" she smiled, smoothing his bedhead and shooing him off. Once the kettle was on she turned back to him, fingers and hair treacherously close to the burning stove. "Haymitch" she looked up at the strapping young boy, shirt wrinkled and half untucked, one suspender strap falling. She laughed coarsely. "Don't you get it, you daft tool? Real people..none of them matter anymore. You want to survive? You make them praise you" she urged, sighing and shaking her head at the end.

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She sighed and shook her head, setting a cup of tea beside him and sitting gently on the other end. "Haymitch...come on, you need to get out of those clothes and get to bed...Haymitch" she touched his leg to focus his attention on her.

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

"Haymitch..." she stood and leaned over him, hair brushing his chest. "You can't drink that much, you're far tpp young and muscular. You won't handle it well." She pressed her lips to his forehead to tell his temperature, as it was the most accurate way she knew, having helped in the Apothecary for several summers. "You're burning up" she whispered as she leaned back and looked down upon the sweating boy.

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

:)

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

"I.." This muscles strained against her skin as she labored to get him to the bathroom, not even giving a second thought before putting him in the bath and stopping it, letting it fill with cold water. After years of caring for ill she did not hesitate to unclip his suspenders, stripping off his pants and dirty white shirt, leaving him to soak in his boxers. She left the room in a flurry, fetching medicine and ice from an avox, coming back and putting a wet rag around his neck, brushing his sweated hair from his eyes, kneeling at his side. "Haymitch? You need to take this" she whispered

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She rose and dimmed the lights of the room, kneeling at the side of the tub. She would ring the rag through the icy water in the bucket and run it across his forehead. She spoke in a whisper, careful with his ears. "The Capitol uses stronger liquor. If you aren't careful, you're going to kill yourself for them," she sighed, sadness in her eyes. Was she really going to have to endure years and years of this? "Haymitch.." she scolded gently.

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She laughed, though the sound was weak and hoarse. "You're my first. So I suppose I haven't learned yet" she shook her head, sighing heavily, shoulders heaving. She stood before he could say anything else, smoothing her skirt. "I'm going to get you some clothes" she muttered, walking from the room, returning a few minutes later with fresh silky pajamas and a pair of boxers. "Here" she laid them at his side. "Can you get dressed yourself?"

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She paused a moment, gray, unfocused eyes on him. It was true. She couldn't see well. But she knew years of hard labor in the seam had given him a well defined body. She pulled a soft white, plush towel from the cabinet and handed it to the boy, trying to avert her gaze out of respect for him and herself. She hesitated and then stood in the doorway, her figure swaying easily with the movement of the train. "I should-um-I'll go" she nodded, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She stood nearly speechless as she watched him, suddenly feeling self conscious about her body even when clothed. He was like some sort of statue they'd display in the Capitol. God, every curve of his body was perfect. She swallowed and played with the hem of her skirt, looking up sheepishly as she followed his wet footprints into her room

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She stood frozen for a moment, swimming in his scent, before peering down the corridor of the train after him. She finally shut the compartment door and stepped out of her skirt, choosing to sleep in her sweater and underwear, washing her face and taking a long look at herself in the mirror. She had to lean so close just to see herself clearly. The doctors said the knife wound had become infected and spread. She thought it was the pin of seeing the games that was causing her vision to go all blurry, like looking through foggy glass. She sighed quietly and let her hair down, crawling into bed and curling into her side, only to find sleep eluding her.

[KBelle, Roleplayer Extrordinare]

She was breaking off pieces of a muffin and gently soaking them in her coffee before eating it piece at a time. She looked up to the muscular boy, raising her eyebrows at him, busy listening to the others discussions on weak spots. The boys had physical potential, Maysilee, a knowledge of drugs and herbs and poison. The youngest girl, however, was the clearest weak link. She sighed, brushing a stray curl away from her face, as it had fallen from her tightly wound bun, keeping her eyes on her plate for a long while.