Second Dispatch. Finally I Have Triumphed Over This Domestic Catastrophe. Action.

[trinkett]

[Effie Trinket has been sorely disappointed in Katniss Everdeen ever since arriving in Luceti. The girl seemed to have dropped all notions of propriety and her renewed place in the world as the Girl on Fire. No, here she seemed content to be muddy and sit on the laps of scruffy men and kiss

NO, that hadn't been a kiss. NOT a proper kiss! That had been a slobbery thing! Slobbery and licky! A slobbery slurpy licky thing!

KISS IN A RESTAURANT OF ALL PLACES. And live with that Sharpe person in what Effie could only describe as a cross between the District One Career Tribute Boys' Locker Room, a weapons closet, and a barn. The only thing she remotely liked about the place once she finally broke into it was the eagle. It would make a perfect wig stand.

With Katniss and Sharpe gone, Effie could take her time redecorating their house. The Welcome Center wasn't welcome in her life anymore. The only sense of purpose she could gravitate toward at the moment was Katniss. They could just deal with that when they got home from the battle. They would live like HUMAN BEINGS. Of course, she would have to prevent Katniss ever finding anything out about Jack Horner, but domestic bliss surely rested down this chosen path.

Feel free to run into her picking out properly upholstered furniture at the items shop, or other homegoods-type stuff. A lot of it will be in shocking colors. Most of it will look uncomfortable and gaudy.]

Comments

[trinkett]

Surprise!

[Buttercup, so clean. So not-thrilled with the world.]

Welcome home, Katniss! Good to see you alive!

[At least Effie seems genuinely happy to see her.]

I threw out all of your socks.

[stillplaying]

[She had thought her eyes couldn't grow any wider. But she had been wrong, hadn't she? Because when Effie appeared in the living room - how had she even gotten in here? - she shook her head in disbelief. Looked at the cat now rushing to hide behind her legs to the Capitol woman in front of her.

What, what, was Effie Trinket doing here? In Katniss' living room? In the one place that was supposed to be hers. A house, a home that she and Peeta had actually made. All she really had left of him, even as she struggled to move on.

And Effie had invaded it. Had thrown out her socks! What kind of person threw out another person's socks?]

What? [The word is little more than a squeak.] Why?

[happyhungergames]

"Because I found you much BETTER ones in the shop!"

They were all neatly ironed and folded in Katniss's dresser. Effie had taken pains to iron and re-fold each item in there, including underwear.

"Also, undergarments! They had lovely ones, I just couldn't pass them up."

Calmly, she reached for Katniss's coat.

[stillplaying]

But there had been nothing wrong with her old socks! Maybe one or two of them had a small hole, but they were still otherwise perfectly serviceable. They were warm and soft and not at all needing of disposable. She began to scowl only to suddenly stop as soon as Effie mentioned her underwear.

Her underwear! That... that wasn't something anyone was supposed to see. Anyone but her or maybe once upon a time Peeta and instantly, her face goes red with embarrassment. Did she really think she was her prep team or worse, Cinna? Cinna who was now and forever lost to her. Who never would have treated her clothing with such disdain.

But another thought hits her. If Effie had had access to her dresser, that means she had been in her room. Without responding, she dumps her coat and bow and quiver on the floor and darts across the small space to the door leading to her room. She shoves the door open and then lets out a breath of relief. It's still there. The beautiful mural of her forests that Peeta had painted on the walls is still there.

[trinkett]

"Katniss!" she chided, sweeping up the dropped coat and weapons. Honestly. Could the girl not see how spotless this place was? It felt almost like home!

Coat still draped over her arm, and quiver over her shoulder, Effie joined Katniss at the door of the bedroom.

"Ah. Your beautiful painting."

[stillplaying]

It didn't feel anything like home. Not now that it was all clean and... and frilly. It was exactly the sort of home she could picture any Capitol fop living in. A person like Effie. But her home was more down to Earth. More messy and lived in and inviting.

But that, the painting, that was still here. For whatever reason, she hadn't deemed to paint it over. It had been a long, long time since Katniss had felt this thankful.

In response to Effie's statement, she nodded absently. And then, moments later, she turned to finally really look at the woman. "What the..." What was one of those oaths Richard had used? "...christ are you doing here?"

[trinkett]

"Living," came the simple reply. Effie held out the neatly-folded coat to her. "I'm boiling a roast."

Indeed, there was a fragrant smell of cooking meat coming from the kitchen. This was Effie, entourage-less.

[stillplaying]

She could smell the roast. It smelled like actual food, something a lot more like what her mother would have made than Katniss' pale imitations. Her stomach quickly betrayed her and growled at the smells permeating the room. Damn stomach.

Finally, she turned around to really face Effie. To take in that ridiculous sense of Capitol fashion. And that out of place apron over it.

"What? Why?"

[trinkett]

"You need me," came the simple answer.

It wasn't that simple. Effie was a gregarious creature who didn't particularly LIKE living alone in the Welcome Center. It felt so transient. There weren't any homeless people in the Capitol, but Effie had a good enough idea of what a hobo was to feel like one. What she had needed was a place. It was what she had been seeking with Jack Horner -- what she had been looking for since she'd gotten here.

And she needed protection. Effie would never, ever admit that, but she felt vulnerable here. No Peacekeepers. No entourage. Every moment felt unguarded and that would not do.

Katniss was strong. Sharpe? Sharpe was a killer. She was just here to make things cozy and bring a sense of style.

"Come along, let's eat. You must be famished."

[stillplaying]

The ideal of a warm, freshly cooked meal seemed so tempting. So, so very tempting. Yet, Katniss stayed rooted to the spot, standing in the door frame of her room. She continued to eye the apron suspiciously, to eye Effie suspiciously.

Effie Trinket cooked. Who knew?

But that wasn't the point. That had nothing to do with the matter at hand. The fact that her former chaperon had suddenly decided to make herself comfortable within Katniss' house. That she thought Katniss needed her.

"I- I don't." She shook her head quickly. "I don't need anyone."

[inyourfavor]

"Of course you do!" came the brusque reply. Effie was searching through the cabinets in order to find what she needed to set the table. She'd have to completely reorganize these later; there was absolutely no rhyme or reason to them.

Katniss needed her. She might not have anything that anyone needed here, but she could rest assured that Katniss guaranteed her some kind of position. The sheen of it. And there was something about the girl, truly. Some attractive force, some charisma, something Effie had deemed worthy to care about in more than the usual way.

[stillplaying]

"No," she mumbled, turning around to watch Effie make her way to the kitchen. Walking as if she had been living here for years instead of... what was it? A few days? She didn't know. She didn't really want to know. She just wanted Effie gone. Out of her space and out of her house.

There were more than enough apartments here. She could easily find one of her own.

"No," Katniss repeated, slamming the door shut before joining Effie. "I mean it. I don't need anyone."

[trinkett]

"Do you enjoy potatoes with your roast?"

I need people. It was there in those overly-bright blue eyes. The strain that was just audible beneath the politeness of the question.

[stillplaying]

Her treacherous stomach grumbled again at the mention of potatoes, the answer rather clear even without her speaking aloud. Yes, she enjoyed potatoes. Really, she had yet to find a food that she didn't actually like.

But it was the words unspoken that kept her silent. In all the years she had watched Effie Trinket come to District 12, she couldn't remember her looking so... not needy. But maybe a little lost. Out of her element even as she pretended not to be. Alone.

Damn.

"...I do."

[trinkett]

Good. Good good good. Relief washed over the woman.

"Then you'll be pleased with these. They're meant to be twice-baked."

She lifted the cover from a pan of potatoes. They didn't LOOK terrible.

"I baked them THREE times for the sake of superiority."

[stillplaying]

Even if they weren't the perfected pieces of culinary art she had grown accustomed to seeing in the Capitol, they still looked appetizing enough. As good as anything she herself could cook were she attempting to do something fancier than her basic fair.

But... "Were you supposed to do that?"

[trinkett]

"Hmmm? Was I NOT supposed to do that?"

She hesitated briefly; cooking rules weren't rules Effie had mastered.

[stillplaying]

She shrugged, eyeing the potatoes with suspicion. While she didn't know what twice-baked potatoes were necessarily supposed to look like, she doubted that they had those black burnt bits around the edges. Those moments where she would attempt a fancier meal were few and far between, especially since Peeta had left.

But...

"Usually, I follow the instructions in the books."

[trinkett]

"There are books?" Effie looked doubtful. She poked at a potato with a fork and the steam rose.

"Potato books?"

[stillplaying]

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at that response. A potato book? Even though she knew the Capitol had been full of privilege and wealth, there had to be some families that cooked their own meals. They couldn't all live on that canned food they had found stored like a squirrel's acorns within the abandoned apartments.

...could they?

"Cookbooks, Effie," she said slowly, reaching for a fork in the sink to rinse off. "You write recipes in them."

[inyourfavor]

[stillplaying]

Do not scowl. Do not facepalm. Do not go off on Effie no matter how tempting it was. And it was. Oh so very tempting. Did they teach them anything in the Capitol? Anything of use at all?

She returns the look with a stare of her own. A stare boarding on annoyance again.

[inyourfavor]

"It's a lovely idea, writing down all those instructions in a book."

Effie might have been raised on all the best and most exotic dishes, even moreso after she had attained some standing in the Capitol -- but she had never made a practice of cooking for herself.

"Do you have any lying around here, perchance?" she twittered.

[stillplaying]

The draft had lasted for days. Given the amount of work Effie had done on the house, clearly she didn't move in today. There was just too much stuff that otherwise didn't belong within here. And the level of cleanliness. She can't remember ever seeing the house this clean.

In all the time spent rearranging furniture, dusting shelves, returning items to their proper location, did she stop once to actually inspect the details of the house? To note the cookbooks lining one shelf in the living room? Or any of the other books within there? Or was cleaning for Effie as much of a coping mechanism as hunting was for her?

She had never stopped to consider that before. And for a split second, she felt a pang of sympathy for the woman.

"They're in the other room," she answered with a toss of her head in that direction. "On the shelves with the other books?"

[inyourfavor]

"Be right back!" With a smart forward impetus in her step, Effie whirled about and made her way to the shelves. Ah. THERE. "Joy of Cooking!" Was cooking meant to bring one joy? Mostly it made Effie's wigs slightly damp and frizzy. She took that book anyway, and another one that was written by a mere child, by the look of the cover.

She returned to the kitchen.

"I'll use these next time," she promised.