━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━
JUPITER loathed the sound of the television in the mornings. The noise was often buzzing when she woke up, weak sunlight filtering in through her pale blinds and curtains she had nailed in to try and block as much light as possible years ago.
It was monotonous, as she woke up and doused her face with cold water, trying not to look at her reflection, moving back to her room and finally pulling up the curtains to expose the bleak view of District 2. She would then leave her room, dragging her feet and keeping her head ever-so-slightly turned down as she entered the open kitchen and main living area.
Inevitably and predictably, her mother would be sat on the lounge suite, practically chewing on her fingernails as she watched the Captiol's main channel, invested in whatever they had chosen to broadcast and yap on about that day. Jupiter couldn't stand the noise, or the music, or the way those people looked, but her mother was mostly harmless.
The last few months the TV had been nothing but the star-crossed lovers from District 12 and Jupiter's mother, Cassia, was eating it up along with the rest of the Capitol. Each morning since, Jupiter would awake to continued reports and gossip about the pair of Victors, something so unusual and tragic that no one could shut up. With their Victory Tour fast-approaching, the news was even more incessant.
Cassia Marrow did not acknowledge her daughter as she entered, moving around the kitchen in silence, eyes down and hands working quickly. Occasionally they would shake, and she would clutch at the shape around her neck, and then return to normal.
Monotonous.
Cold.
A routine.
"Jupe, dear," Cassia finally spoke up, not looking away from the screen. "Have you asked to attend the Tour yet?"
"No, Ma," she responded.
Cassia scoffed. "That Cato of yours was so close. But that girl on fire and her arrows... bad luck."
Jupiter only hummed in response. Her mother sounded as if she were talking about bets, about the outcome of sports game, not someone's life.
Her own Victory Tour poster was hung in the kitchen, her own eyes glaring down at her everytime she wished to feed herself. Her stylist at the time, a man named Gryphon, had adorned her in a red dress that went much too low, with gold accents wherever possible. Golden ear cuffs, golden rings on every finger, bangles, even thin lines of gold makeup running down her cheeks.
She had never liked the warm colours, even when everyone told her it was her colour and made her look the part she played. Jupiter hated that. Gryphon had been fired years ago, replaced by her new stylist, Lux, a woman with cool-toned dyed hair and piercing blue eyes. Jupiter had much preferred her style choice and had even come to consider her a partial friend.
Friend, of course, being a very loose term.
The door to the house opened, and the third and final Marrow entered, bag slung lazily over his shoulder as he tracked snow into the kitchen. Jupiter watched him carefully as he stepped around the counter to where she was making breakfast.
He dumped a pile of letters in front of her, each sealed with wax and addressed formally. Jupiter only looked down at them dismissively before turning away.
Mars looked personally offended by the ignorance. "You're ignoring the Academy's letters," her brother told her.
He was both older and much larger than Jupiter was, looking down at her like a disappointed parent. If anything, he looked more like their father, hair pinned to his scalp with wide, dark eyes and that intense look their paternal figure had often worn when he was concentrating.
Except Mars lacked the warmth their father had held, and when Jupiter looked at him, she saw only a shell of the man she had loved so dearly.
She did not think she looked like her father, all sharp features and a square jaw often set in a frown. It didn't help that Jupiter had her mother's eyes, a startling hazel that looked golden in the right lights and leapt from her face like a blinking cat. Maybe gold and red were her colours, maybe she was in denial. Probably.
"Why do you care?" Jupiter spoke up, brashly.
Mars tilted his head. "It's disrespectful," he said, simply.
"I don't work for them," she said with a dramatic shrug.
Anger flashed across her brother's face, a look she knew and feared well. "You're alive because of them," he insisted, putting a hand down on the counter.
Jupiter bit her tongue, eyes gleaming at the words as her food sizzled atop the stove, filling the house with the smell of eggs, garlic and mushrooms. "They can't hear you," she settled on, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
Mars took a step forward, Jupiter moving with him as her lower back pressed against the counter. She hid her sharp inhale, not wanting to give her brother more satisfaction than he already got.
For once, Cassia had good timing.
"Jupe, be nice to your brother," she called, finally turning and looking at them.
Mars exchanged a glance with his sister as he backed away. Her eyes followed him, before drifting to her mother's tired mirrors. "Yes, Ma," she murmured.
Cassia frowned but said nothing else as she lifelessly turned back to the screen. Jupiter dared to meet her brother's eyes as she moved around him and plated up her food, her thin fingers trembling as she did so.
"I made breakfast," she murmured as she brushed past Mars.
She heard him scoff but didn't turn around as she carried her plate back to her room and locked the door behind her.
Jupiter slowly made her way through the food, ignoring the rising light filtering into her room. District 2 was a bleak place, nestled in the Rocky Mountains which were colder now more than ever, winter pecking at her cheeks whenever she stepped outside. It was a wildly industrial city, with some homes scattered on the outskirts.
She would have liked to live there, or maybe in District 11 with the orchards, or District 7 with their forests and the shadows filtering through the leaves. Even District 4, with the lapping of the waves and the moisture in the air, blue reflecting in her eyes as she lay far away from everything.
Everytime she left 2 was a breath of fresh air, it was taking in everything different around her that took her far from home. The train rides that took her out had her sitting by the window, watching the world flash by. The only thing she had ever liked about her Victory Tour had been seeing the other Districts.
The sun was sitting high in the sky, beams weakly shining on the snow as Jupiter finally pulled herself up and got dressed, scarf tickling her neck as she headed back for the kitchen, walking on her toes. Cassia was still at the screen, the volume lowered now, but was unresponsive as Jupiter put her plate down and made for the door.
"Where're you going?" Mars' voice cut in and she felt his presence against her back. Jupiter paused just before the door, but didn't turn around.
"Jupe, are you going to see the tour?" Cassia chimed in, clearly her memory faded from earlier that day.
Jupiter squared her shoulders and glanced over one. "No, I'm getting bread. We're out," she told her mother, looking straight past Mars.
He had never liked getting ignored.
Mars moved into her peripheral, blocking her view with his frame. "Get me ham while you're out." It wasn't a request, but an order.
Against her better judgement, Jupiter snapped back, "Get it yourself."
Cassia put her hands over her ears just as Mars stepped forward, and Jupiter braced for it as her back hit the door and the handle pressed against her skin. Her jaw throbbed from where her brother had swiftly struck her, and her breath was hitched in her throat as he bared down on her, dark eyes so unlike their father's despite being set in a face just like his.
Jupiter could almost feel his breath on her cheek, her chin trembling and the livewires that had been born into her limbs were alive with electricity. They were begging to be used, begging to hit back one of these days.
She knew she could stand against him, she had won against tributes just as big and skilled as him during her Games. But then she would think, what is the point? Violence was not the answer she so desperately wanted, she knew that now.
Mars didn't, all he knew was violence, like most of their District's children.
So she stayed where she was, quiet and unmoving, vividly aware of the deathgrip he had on her and the way she was pushed up against the door, ignoring the aches forming from the position.
"What'd you say?" he asked, voice just above a whisper.
Jupiter swallowed thickly. "I'll get it," she murmured, looking up at him with hooded eyes.
The silence stretched on, his fingers continued to dig into the skin of her arm. After a few moments, he scoffed, lifting his chin. "That's what I thought."
He released her roughly and moved off, one could even say strolling, as Jupiter fumbled with the door handle behind her. She didn't take her eyes off of him as she pulled open the door and practically flew out, hurrying down the entry stairs with a shaking lip.
She kept her eyes low as she departed, ignoring the house on her left. The Victor Village of 2 was nestled near the foot of the mountains, large, wooden houses with sweeping views of the trees and much too many rooms than necessary. Jupiter had won hers many years ago, but before that she had lived in a different one.
The town centre was a decent walk away, but Jupiter pushed through until she reached the neatly cobbled streets and thrum of movement and voices. The town centre was bustling as she arrived, children off from school for the winter break and subsequent Victory Tour fluttering around Jupiter's legs as she moved unassumingly through the crowd.
Victors were not a thrill in 2, at least not in the way she had heard in other Districts. She could go about her home as a regular citizen, some people she hardly knew greeting them as friends, but otherwise a Victor was not a rare thing to see. It was not an occasion or a reason to draw attention– and Jupiter liked it. Maybe it was the only blessing of the winnings being so normalised.
The shopkeepers' heads stuck out of their windows, inviting customers in from the cold outside. District 2 always cooled down the quickest, the altitude drawing the snow to them first. Jupiter ignored most of the ornamental shops, moving past displays of gold and elitist collectibles, gifts from the Captiol and the well-loved pawn shop that her brother frequented often.
"Morning, space girl," Julius the baker greeted as Jupiter entered, the smell of fresh pastries and bread bombarding her senses. The rush outside faded into a dull buzzing as the door shut and she stepped in, the only customer at the time.
Jupiter scoffed, but couldn't keep the fondness from her eyes. "Hi Julius. Just bread today."
"The usual?" Julius said, pushing away from the register. Jupiter just nodded with a small smile. Her jaw was still sore.
In the back of the shop behind the counter, Jupiter could see Julius' daughter, Gaia, covered in flour. She met the Victor's eyes with the same mesmerised look she always did, green eyes big and round. Jupiter still remembered when the girl was just a tottering toddler, or a baby strapped across Julius' chest as he worked.
But Jupiter's eyes drifted, focusing on something else.
She recognised the braid that started at the top of the skull and ran down the back, something that Katniss had worn during her games. As the mentor of the third-ranked tribute, Jupiter had been present for almost the entire time. Even after the mercy kill had happened and she had left with a knotted stomach, she could still hear the cheers in the Capitol and the prior protests as the pair of Victors were crowned.
Gaia's face shifted at the continued staring and Jupiter flicked her gaze away and back to the shopkeeper. "Thanks," she said as she accepted the bread covered in a brown paper bag.
"How's the family?" he asked, softly.
Jupiter tried to keep her expression even. "The usual," she replied. Julius' face showed only pity. She ignored it and placed a stack of coins on the counter. "Keep the change," Jupiter called over her shoulder as she left.
She had to wait for a truck full of Peacekeepers to pass before darting across the street from the bakery, the route almost automatic to her. No one stopped her, no one questioned, even as she pushed through the iron gates and lifted her chin as if that would hide the weight on her shoulders.
As she walked, Jupiter ripped off a chunk of the bread, taking a few small bites of it before holding the rest at her side. It was still warm, freshly-baked.
The cemetery was a morbid place, not well-visited. District 2 practised that if properly mourned and guided to the afterlife, it did not do well to dwell on those who had passed. Jupiter wasn't one for tradition or rules, especially these days, so the routine of stopping at her father's gravestone with bread crumbs was something rare.
Saturnus Marrow: a father, friend and VICTOR.
She hated that Victor had made it to his gravestone, that that was all he was remembered for. Her father had been so much more than the boy who had won when he was only fifteen, so much more than one of 2's youngest volunteers in all their decades of running the Academy.
Jupiter crouched down, knees brushing the dirt as she tore at the bread and sprinkled crumbs across the ground. Not tradition, not the way. But what had 2's way ever done for her?
Her brother was a product of their District, she told herself. He only knew how to express himself through violence because that was all they were taught. Maybe it was easier to blame it on that than accept that Mars was as far from her brother as blood allowed.
Saturnus would have been fifty had he lived. Victor of the 39th Annual Hunger Games. But to Jupiter, he had always just been dad. Now that she lived the way he would have, she could only wonder how he had carried such light in his eyes, and treated her and her brother with such warmth.
She wished she could ask him.
Jupiter stayed there for a while, crouched on the ground, rereading the words until they were as engraved in her mind as they were in the stone. The only part of her routine that wasn't as cold, brought her a little closer to the past she missed so much.
She believed her father might have been the one person to have been happy she had lived. But she also would never know.
━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━
mars marrow antis unite!!!
finnick is coming soon, trust, just setting jupiter and district 2 up