WELCOME TO DREAMWIDTH, HERO...

[Katniss sounds distant, to say the least. It's in reference to the current goings-on at Yankee Stadium, predictably enough. She is trying her best to stay composed, to not think about it, not remember like she does every single night in her dreams, but it's -- not working. Especially not with this.]

Eighteen instead of twenty-four. One victor. Maybe two, if they break the rules like we did. [Her voice changes abruptly, from something distant and almost fuzzy to something much more raw, a cynical drawl.]

So. Who's the sponsors? Who's going to choose who lives and who dies? We may as well make this place more like home, it's already turning into it.

Happy Hunger Games, city. May the odds be ever in your favor.

[There is a small girl wandering Central park, a certain kitten named Jasper cradled in her arms. Beside her, leaning up against a tree, is a bow that looks to be rather bigger than she is -- it may look familiar to a few people.

Katniss is not sure what to do, here. There are people that know her, and Prim is here, but Prim is older than she is, and that can't be right. Prim's supposed to be small, about six, now. Her mother and father are nowhere to be found, either, and this looks absolutely nothing like home. Maybe this will make her feel better. She scoots up against the tree, rests a hand on the bow and leans back, singing something quietly to herself. For those who are paying attention, this is how the song goes:]

Are you, are you, coming to the tree
Where I told you to run so we'd both be free
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.

Are you, are you, coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.

[She only sings a little, but it is enough to quiet the squirming kitten, and she pets his ears carefully, before turning her attention to the comm.]

This isn't district 12. Where's my father?

[Check it out, network! It's a cot in a shabby-looking rathole of an apartment. On this cot is a pretty adorable two-legged kitten with a piece of twine tied in a bow around its neck.

This apartment might look vaguely familiar if you know Katniss or Haymitch, because then the camera's getting turned around and there's Katniss, staring at you all with a lifted eyebrow.]

What. I don't even like cats.

[Then she sets the camera down on the cot, though, and proceeds to inspect the kitten carefully. ...But she's not kicking it out of the house or anything, at least.]

[Once again, the network is being treated to the sight of Katniss in hunting mode. It's a bit different than the last time, though, her eyes are wide, her shoulders tense, and she is watching -- is that a polar bear? ....Yes, she is watching a polar bear very intently. She notches an arrow and lets it fly, hands sure and swift, though really she feels like they should be shaking.]

And Haymitch said they didn't have muttations here.

[It is muttered to herself, mostly, and the bear lets out a roar and starts crashing towards Katniss, who promptly brings up another arrow and fires it off, darting into the underbrush. Hopefully she's gone back far enough so as to not be easily seen, but she knows she'll have to start running soon. She picks up her comm and gives it a firm stare, finally noticing that it's on.]

Haymitch. We're moving. Tonight.

[And the video is switched off, as she continues her retreat into the trees.]

[--Enjoy the nice view you're getting of Katniss' pocket, City. Apparently she stuck the comm in there and turned it on without realizing. She sounds rather frantic and terrified at the moment, and though it can't be seen, she is looking around anxiously, still in the Porter room.]

Peeta? Peeta! Are you here, are you okay?

[She pauses a moment, and it is clear she is waiting for something. An answer, a sound, perhaps someone to come through the door and usher her off to a cell. There is silence, and then, quieter, almost desperate:]

Peeta?

[More silence. The girl finally glances at her pocket, sighs, and pulls out the comm. The look she gives to the screen is tired, very much 'I am not going to take your shit, so don't even bother trying.']

Where is he? [She is not going to bother with bargaining, no, she knows better than that. Just some assurance that he's alright, that would be enough. Perhaps.]

You promised me once you wouldn't lie to me, so tell me. Where is he?