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Jessica never saw the point of pride. It never seemed practical to her in a world where people send kids to die for entertainment and the survivors have to shuffle the next batch on to a slaughter.

Which means she's in the dining car not long after Percy, brushing past him and grabbing the nearest bottle of liquor.

She takes a swig and looks him over. Not for the first time ever, but the first time actually caring about assessing him. How soon will this one die?

Another swig.

"Eat if you're hungry, kid. Just don't throw up on me if you get queasy."

Pride isn't one of Percy's bigger flaws. But when it comes to things from the Capitol -- their excess, their indulgence, their so much of everything while others starve -- it's tempting to tell them exactly where they can stick their so-called gifts.

He frowns when one of his supposed mentors sweeps in, walks past him like he's not even there, and then offers her not-so-helpful advice.

"Yeah," he grumbles, "don't worry. If I do any throwing up, I'll make sure to face another direction."

Still, after a beat, he concedes to picking up a shiny red apple.

"So how exactly are you supposed to help us if you get drunk already?"

To hear the Capitol tell it, them being alive at all is a gift. Food and booze is just a bonus, and one that Jessica isn't going to shy away from just because she hates everything about the world and the Games in particular. The noise and the screaming and the blood. The sugar stick coating the Capitol puts over everything it touches.

The fact that this kid is already sassing her like he knows anything.

"Trust me," said as she sits down in the nearest opulent excuse for a chair, "me being drunk doesn't change a goddamn thing about helping you. I gave you good advice, too."

"Eat when I'm hungry. Yeah, that's one I never would've guessed."

The sass is only going to keep coming, Jessica. It's not going anywhere. He holds onto the apple for the time being, as though trying not to give Jessica the satisfaction of seeing him listen to her; his nails bite into its red skin, leaving little crescent-shaped marks.

Okay, not like she hasn't dished out her share.

Jessica shrugs, then puts her feet up on the gorgeous wooden table that someone, somewhere, is probably having a heart attack about now. "I meant the throwing up on me part."

She notes the apple, how he's not eating it. He's pissed, and it's kind of reassuring that he's angry instead of simpering and afraid. Or, worse, chomping at the bit to prove himself in the arena. That would make him an idiot, and while it would be easier to write him off now and keep that comforting wall of not-caring in place, it would definitely mean he'd die in the first ten minutes.

"What kind of advice were you expecting, anyway? 'Don't die?' Kinda thought that one was obvious."

"You're right," he says, straight-faced, "it'd be terrible if you got a bad first impression of me."

Because he's making such a good one right now, clearly. None of his attitude is personal to Jessica, really. He's angry at the Games, angry at the Capitol, angry at making his mother cry and having to leave her behind, possibly forever. Angry at this entire stupid system that forces kids who've never done anything to die for supposed crimes of their predecessors. And, yeah, angry that he's probably going to be one of them, that Jessica doesn't seem to care.

"How about something useful? Or is that too much to ask for?"

Another swig.

"The only person who gives a shit about your impression on me is me, so don't worry."

True, but unhelpful. And this is the struggle Jessica faces every year since becoming a mentor -- she can't help him. Not really, not in any way that will mater once he's in there and fighting on his own. She can't fight for him, can't even raise his appeal in the Capitol. Most people hate her, and she hate them right back, so he's already at a disadvantage with sponsors and the interview. He'll learn how to fight when they get there, and she can't, won't, find a way to make it easier for him to kill other children.

It's a crapshoot, a game they all have to play and that no one ever wins.

"Eat the apple, kid. If you wanna live, you can't go in already hungry."

Percy looks like there are a lot of things he'd like to say to that -- both things -- but manages to think better of it. Instead, he finally takes a bite of his apple.

It's one of the better things he's ever tasted, because of course it is.

After he swallows, he says, "Percy. I have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure everyone does."

She knows his name. She knows the other one's name, too. When they die, they'll haunt her, and she has a 100% failure rate at bringing kids back home. So does Malcolm. He'll get to hear her say it if he wins. Until then, the tributes from District 4 are 'kid' and 'the other kid.'

But, that only helps her, and she's supposed to help him.

Jessica takes a full drink from the bottle, eyes it as she makes a face, and then sets it down before turning her attention back to him. "Start by telling me what you already know so I don't waste my time."

Percy raises his eyebrows.

"Same as what everyone knows, I guess. Find a weapon, try to get supplies. They'll probably be at the Cornucopia, but fighting there on day 1 is a fast way to die. Uh...try to impress the audience at interviews? So, like, the sponsors will be willing to shell out."

He has no idea what he could possibly say or do that would achieve that, though. Does anything else come to mind? Not....really, is the thing, so he shrugs helplessly.

"Don't die, and you win."

She watches him as he speaks, wheels turning in her head. He probably knows how to use a sword already -- it's a popular choice in training. And he doesn't seem stupid so far, just angry, which can be a blessing and a curse. It's easier to get through it angry, but it's a hard sell to sponsors. Harder, since she'll be the one talking him up.

"What about team-ups?"

They'd never been her thing, but a lot of kids survived a lot longer than expected by joining forces with each other.

"I've got nothing against them. As long as the other people are okay."

Which seems a little -- mean, maybe, since they're all just kids picked at random to fight to the death in the arena. But he's never going to team up with a bully, with someone who preys on the weak, with someone who enjoys being there. But with someone else capable, just trying to survive? Or -- just as likely, maybe more likely -- someone who needs the protection? It's a yes to both.

Mean, but good. If he'd gone on about his plans for a career pack, about a strategy for picking off the weak, she'd have gotten up and left right here and now. He'd be on his own entirely, which isn't fair to anyone but it'd help her sleep at night.

"We'll figure that out when we get there. You can watch the Reapings if you want, get an idea."

She doesn't say it, but she will not be joining him on that project if he chooses to accept it. There's only so much of crying children realizing they're about to die that she can take.

Luckily for Jessica, that'd never happen. He's more likely to die protecting the weak than even consider targeting them.

Her suggestion makes him hesitate, and he twists the apple stem with his free hand. He probably should, to get an idea, but he doesn't have the heart to.

"I'll have plenty of time to find out when I'm there."

Both during training and in the arena.

Jessica only nods. She should probably push him on this, make sure he's fully prepared before seeing the rest of the tributes, but she can't bring herself to do it. This train ride is the last chance he's got to not think about it, to have the option, and she's not going to take it away from him.

He may not have plenty of time, but he'll have some.

"What about the interview? Got any good stories I should send over? Flickerman's a Grade A Weirdo, but he's good at what he does. Better when he has something to go on."

Every word just reminds her of the inevitability of this, the end point in the arena, and as much as it's going to help him to get this all going now, Jessica is starting to feel that familiar dread creep in. Staving it off with another gulp of booze only helps a little.

He shrugs.

"What counts as a good story?"

"Hell if I know. My interview was a goddamn mess."

It hadn't been that bad, honestly. Jessica mostly remembers hating every second of it, and the rest of her training, and every word she had to speak with her overly attentive Capitol escort. Thoughts she doesn't want to think right now. Or ever, really, so she takes another swig and moves to stand as if she can literally, physically, get away from them. To her credit, she doesn't sway or stumble in the process.

"The whole point of it is to make people like you enough to put money on you, and strong enough to make it sound worth the investment." It's disgusting, but it's how this part of the game is played.

"It wasn't that bad."

Because he's seen it, obviously, from mandatory highlights reels and reruns of Games past. And District 4, of course, takes a special interest in airing clips from Games that their own victors won. Percy knows plenty about her interview, her arena, her fellow tribute, because he never had the opportunity otherwise.

The whole point of it. He makes himself take another bite out of that stupid apple, though it tastes like dirt in his mouth this time around.

"Good luck with that," he shrugs. "Figuring out a positive spin on gets in trouble at school every day isn't going to be easy."

That piques her interest. She's pacing, now, slow and steady, rounding the chair she'd just been sitting in to lean over the back of it and look at him.

"Fights, or something else?"

There are absolutely ways they can spin that. The Capitol can spin anything.

Well, that reaction kind of surprises him.

"Fights, mostly."

Weird how thinking about Matt Sloan and Nancy Bobofit almost makes him miss them now. He definitely misses when they were some of his biggest problems.

"There are some jerks who think it's okay to pick on kids who can't fight back."

Oh, yeah, they can work with that. She almost smiles, because beyond the interview, it's a good thing to hear.

"I think we can work with that."

Slow, it's starting to dawn on her that this year they might have a chance. She might be able to bring someone home. That maybe, finally, she won't have to help some kid and then watch him die in technicolor with added commentary.

They make it to the Capitol, and, if anything, time starts moving even faster than before. Percy and Bianca di Angelo meet their stylists, their prep teams, get cleaned up and sent out for opening ceremonies. They train, meet the others, and get scored. And now it's night, and the promised evening of interviews is soon.

Percy says, "Figured out your angle?"

He's been quieter since they got to the Capitol. Though not quiet, which is a distinction; he still makes plenty of stupid comments, some for Bianca's benefit to make her laugh, sometimes just to lighten the mood, and some -- too many -- directed at fellow tributes he hates already. Tributes aren't allowed to fight before the Games start, but it has been a test. It's not really satisfying, though. He knows who he's really angry at, and those people are both nearer and farther out of reach than ever.

Jessica notices the change. Observes what she can, and when he's in training she goes and sees Trish. Meets with her and (ugh) Dorothy, plans meetings with sponsors. She even agrees to wear something one of the stylists have picked out for her when going to those meetings instead of fighting tooth and nail to stay in her own clothes.

Now, though, everything is tense. It always is at this point, like a constant electric thrum coursing through the air as time runs out second by second. In the past, it was always full of dread, knowing she was just that much closer to seeing her tribute die.

She's sitting on the couch, eating food that she is sure the stylists and the avoxes would prefer she eat at a table, and is almost comfortable enough to be confident. Almost. There is still the nagging feeling that even now, she can't save him.

"You're a good kid. You pick fights to protect people. They'll eat it up."

PICK YOUR POISON
PIC PROMPTS / TFLN / RANDOM SCENARIO
HAN SOLO velocities	BETTY MCRAE bombsheller	RIVER TAM subsulcus	RIVER TAM (AU) comprehender
SIMON TAM vest	BRIA THAREN exulted	NADINE CROSS bridaled	GU JUN-PYO toddler
available on special request: veronica sawyer, benjamin linus, imani, maria deluca, mushu, poseidon, niccolò machiavelli, malik al-sayf, chloe

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