Shark Plushy (Enobaria X F.OC)

12

After a lecture about why you don't bludgeon the head of the revolution, a sentence Plutarch never expected to say but should have, Bera was... Listening.

"Yeah yeah cut it with the blah blah." She had her legs crossed up on the desk and was pushing her chair back in a lean, arms crossed. "Panem's most beloved woman holding a spear against the Capitol, bodyguard of the mockingjay. Say that if that's what you want me to be and not this political shit house you are vomiting up." She rolled her eyes.

"Why are you so snappy?" Plutarch asked with a smile, expecting that.

"Why? Oh I don't know, maybe because adult shitheads cower while asking us basic kids to lead their fight, Potato is like 17 or something, a baby in diapers for fuck's sake. Not only hers but my district has been cinders for days and yet I see no one here helping to evacuate survivors like they graciously did with 12. My goal was to put Enobaria out of the fight not to leave her behind in the arena but of course you could not know, it is not like I've gone public with asking her out several times and covering for your mockingjay. Or maybe because I still feel my body wanting to fall apart like a Jenga tower leaning to the left."

She took a deep breath.

"Pick your reason."

The Coin named woman just watched her before slowly leaning to Plutarch and Bera heard her whisper "What's Jenga?".

"We appreciate all you did for us."

"I did it for myself lady, I always did things for myself." She sat up normally. "And please just stop, you are rotten to the core like all leaders are." She stood up, hands on the table and leaning over. "I was already planning to fight for my district, for those you left behind in the arena, for freedom. Not. You." With that, Bera turned tail and walked out... Well, stopped at the door first. "And don't be stupid, the fights will be around your damned mockingjay, do you really expect me to stay out of it?"

Slamming the door, she walked off.

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"What am I? A babysitter?!"

Yes, yes you are Bera.

"Fuck you and all of life itself! Dammit Potato come out of hiding before your nurses chew me in half!"

Well Johanna and Finnick were also looking for the victor that had the great sense of vanishing each time the lovely PTSD hit. Honestly Bera sniffs that shit or something because she doesn't go catatonic like Finnick, doesn't become training obsessed like Johanna nor freaks the fuck out like Potato. When she does it is her brain fuck up.

No, because of how she was raised, like from 2, Bera tanks it with her anger and emotions and lashes it back out at those hurting her, quite therapeutic and calming while cleaning the world from scum at the same time.

"There you are Potato, get up." She didn't care for the girl freaking out in her arms, she just hauled her up and carried her under her arms like a sack of... Of potatoes... Bera is a genius if she can say so herself.

But the girl kept screaming her head off.

"Oy shut up!!" Fear was what made her comply. "You need to let people help you before I think of dropkicking you again but into tomorrow. You didn't chose this, none of us did but you are the damned mockingjay and heart of the revolution. You need to stand up again and move on because they will not help you if you don't help them back."

And she hated being right.

But it was true.

Potato making demands to see 12 before doing anything else left a bitter taste in her mouth, of course they'd let her but not Bera.

But the tough love of 8's victor lent her with being dragged out to 12 with Potato as the girl asked her, out of everyone here, to come along when Coin said she could only go with bodyguards.

12 was still smoldering when they stepped out of the hovercraft.

The concrete and ruble crumbling like dried bread under Bera's feet as she jabbed her spear into the ground with a frown, the Boggs named guy, the one that told her to fuck herself on those mysterious phone calls, had come along with a few guards, those guys having guns.

"Don't worry, Snow hates me more." Bera told Potato as she walked ahead, looking at the destruction in 12, expecting worse in 8. "You were bombed once, you frien Garil--" "Gale." "-yeah whatever, so Garlic had the chance to get them out..." She looked at Potato, annoyingly she knew how she felt. "8 has been suffering constant bombings and riots in a while, I don't expect much survivors."

"How many?" Potato was distracting herself by talking about 8 and trying to convince herself this was not district 12.

"Bombings? That came at your engagement first, 8 taking it for defiance. We almost burnt down our own district before we were bombed down and run over. From what I heard, many more happened during and after the games but I expected nothing else. 8 has been a thorn in his side."

"I heard that 8 has been really rowdy and the first to declare war."

"I am their victor, what else did you expect?" Bera grinned but Potato seemed distracted from their morbid conversation, rightfully so.

Bera looked upon a mass grave, chard bones in humongous pills because of just how many people were here, the whole town square just bones or people that were burnt or blasted to death. A shiver ran down her back, looking at Potato who sank to her knees and gently crying.

She sighed, looking ahead.

Did she really have a chance of having a district to go back too? Was V, Cecelia and her the last 8s? She couldn't even bare think about it.

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Potato had gone to her house in the victors' village and Bera was disgusted, even here, the homes were same as in 8 and they were not bombed on purpose while she expected her victors' village to be in dust.

That one fresh white rose was blood chilling but that "shove a cat in a bag" was hilarious.

Still, looking around 12, Bera couldn't help but worry.