*Some Victors Giving Advice Misha*

Enobaria

Lyme: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me.

Claudius: Okay, but in my defense, Dash bet me 50 cents I couldn't drink all that shampoo.

Lyme: That's not what I wanted to- you drank SHAMPOO?!

Okay, I decided to add more because I had Iris feelings again- I have no control over those.

She is interested in psychology because she wanted to solve her problems without a professional help which is a questionable action done by her. (Normal, says Ronan, gotta get used to it.) And probably this would how she and Adessa got along. Because ~science bonds people.

She and Nero has an anti-Beetee time because they enjoy annoying Adessa besides disliking him for stealing Dess away from them. Like Grand Mentor like Grand Victor.

I have no idea why but I feel like she would kick ass in art competitions. Her and Dess probably had those at some point.

When Calli and Dess has a competition over making the best clothes for their pets, Iris always there to be judge as well as Hera because their Victors know that their Mentor will favor them. (Iris and Hera side eyeing each other and smiling fondly to their Victors.)

Violet and Jameson (Adessa's parents, if you hadn't read Abbot Family Values) chose her as their daughter's mentor because they saw Dess in Iris some way and thought the girl who got destroyed by everything, aka Iris, would like that as a surprise- she did in the end but it got a lot of patience.

Iris background headcannons to understand my recent fic 'Faded Rainbow' better:

• She had won the 20th, obviously, because I thought since Adessa won the 29th therefore it makes a great parallel for having a mentor/victor set at the start and end of the decade.

•She was born in July, because she is sentimental and a total Cancer in my head.

•She had major depression from her life in the Program and in her Arena and Ronan tried as much as he could to help her.

•Adessa is her 'Sunshine'.

•Her Arena was an ocean with thin ice sheets on it; the less resilient tributes got hypothermia and the others got something different, a spoiler I will not reveal yet.

Adessa: Someone painted all my pantsuits to green!

Callista and Nero, knowing damn well they were the ones who were responsible for this 'crime': That's suspicious. That's weird.

Bunch of Beetee/Adessa memes

Hera: Don't let Callista discourage you, she's not that scary; she use to do ballet.

Nero: Really?

Callista: Which gave me the skill to how to strangle people with my feet.

Year book quotes as Victors pt: 1/2

Callista:

Emory/Devon/Brutus:

Misha/Claudius/Lyme/Petra:

Brutus & Lyme after drinking dozen glasses of beers:

Misha/Enobaria/Victor!Selene:

Victor!Alec:

A Callista tribute.

So I had decided to rewrite bb!Lyme/Adessa interaction. The previous one I wrote is here if you're interested.

Nero won’t get away with this, she had promised to herself. There was no way to forgive her mentor who had decided to make her meet with a woman who probably would skin her out and eat her corpse with absolute satisfaction, not to mention even she wouldn't be a breakfast for Adessa.

Maybe it’s Lyme who is thinking so much -who is impulsively angry over everything and everyone, oh well- but standing there on the probably the most expensive oak possible, proved that she definitely was right about to freak out and prefer to have a second Arena rather than facing this.

She actually doesn’t because new Victors simply doesn’t wish that but that’s beside the point and surely waste of time because the door knob slowly moved with the weight pressured by the other side like stabbing a corpse in the guts  and finally the door opened and revealed a cool-faced-but–annoyed-in-the-details older woman which even the bravest people wouldn’t want to face because who wants to die as a scientific experiment?

(Though Snow knows there are actual people who want to experience that.)

“You’re late.” says Adessa, so neutral that it might have killed a Capitollian paparazzi who probably drinks gossip blood instead of wine.

Funny thing is Lyme could answer anything about how to murder a tribute, or how to clench your jaw so hard that it breaks another person’s bone but not any kind of decent quetion about one’s horrible timing.

The elite etiquette in a pantsuit clears her throat and it clear as a day Lyme failed her village manner test which Adessa probably, no, unquestionably, taking charge of; what would you expect from a woman who dissected a tribute but didn’t even drink a single drop of blood. And after all of this chaos of thoughts there was only a word one could say: “Sorry.”

Adessa nods, not what she expected but a Victor’s life wouldn’t be a Victor’s life if everything went as predicted. “No worries, child, come inside.” Lyme is everything but a child but try telling that to a woman who still is remarkably terrifying to this day.

Inside of the house was surprisingly clean from the scent of, well, everything which is relieving since memory of Artificial Hell -the Arena- carved its mark to her brain and threatened to burst whatever sanity she had left.

Adessa gestured to her cloak and said it’s better to take it off and yes, the real world.

“I, erm, didn’t bring any gifts to you.” Lyme said out of the blue, surely people would bring something small to the host, especially if they are twenty six Arenas older than you.

“It’s the thought that it counts,” Adessa says and Lyme tries so hard not to look at her rudely because of their height difference -if Lyme was a mountain, Adessa would be a meadow-  and, honestly, her neck hurts. The feeling must be mutual. “Though, I do not think you would find something my taste before meeting me either.”

Right.

 “Okay…” the silence between them was awkward -how do you even talk to other murderers if you don’t have your mentor with you?- and if it was not Adessa’s smoothness about leading her to a presumably a dining room, then Lyme would spend the rest of her afternoon there instead of taking a pretend nap. 

It did not take long for her to see a neatly designed table with a bunch of porcelain cups and bright looking napkins tucked under a pair of saucers.  “I doubt you know how important it is to maintain your aura while you eat something.”

“I believe I don’t.” 

“Well, everybody learns at their own pace, my dear and obviously I shall help you.”

~~~

An hour or so later, Lyme had a realization of the century that she does not have a single fucking talent about the fucking table manners and such, or she does but to her, it feels as weird as bows, like, why do that when you can do whatever the flying thing you want? 

She tripped when she was carrying a tray and remembered the damn balance but forgot the focus; tea splashed across the floor like a lake with a really wrong colour and the cup’s core is rocks for it which is as metaphorical as she can get about the situation.

“Ah, careful. Someone will clean it, but you’re almost there.”

Lyme almost didn’t hear Adessa, who apparently didn’t catch the younger Victor’s very interested gaze at the sharpness of the glass shards, so sparkly and white that the blood would look marvelous on it. Her blood is strangely dark, as dark as the lipstick Callista usually wears in her interviews, and it’s a shame that it will be stuck in Lyme’s body forever and no one else would see it like the enraged monster inside her.

Adessa snaps her fingers in front of her. “Now, be a dear and pour me tea without spilling a drop.” She misses Nero and his Neroness.

(But he won’t know about that.)

Misha: I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of our lives

Emory: I wake up at 4:30 AM

Misha:

Misha: I want to see you at some point every day for the rest of our lives