The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013)
(via peetahutcherpeen)
“He was here before I could snap the seal on a bottle. Begging me for another chance to go in. But what can you say? Take his place, Haymitch, because all things being equal, I’d rather Peeta had a crack at the rest of his life than you?”
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(via finnickdistractsme)
For the first time, I get a good look at them. A mix of human and lizard and who knows what else. White, tight reptilian skin smeared with gore, clawed hands and feet, their faces a mess of conflicting features. Hissing, shrieking my name now, as their bodies contort in rage. Lashing out with tails and claws, taking huge chunks of one another or their own bodies with wide, lathered mouths, driven mad by their need to destroy me. My scent must be as evocative to them as theirs is to me. More so, because despite its toxicity, the mutts begin to throw themselves into the foul sewer (…).
“Climb!” Gale barks at me. I’m back up, hauling him in, peering into the gloom for more. “No.” Gale turns my face to him and shakes his head. Uniform shredded. Gaping wound in the side of his neck.
There’s a human cry from below. “Someone’s still alive,” I plead.
“No, Katniss. They’re not coming,” says Gale. “Only the mutts are.“
Unnable to accept it, I shine the light from Cressida’s gun down the shaft. Far below, I can just make out Finnick, struggling to hang on as three mutts tear at him. As one yanks back his head to take the death bite, something bizarre happens. It’s as if I’m Finnick, watching images of my life flash by. The mast of a boat, a silver parachute, Mags laughing, a pink sky, Beetee’s trident, Annie in her wedding dress, waves breaking over rocks.
Then it’s over.
Snow threatens Finnick, and Finnick agrees to sell himself.
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I just don’t want to be another piece in their game.
(via stay-together-always)
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(via itsfinnick)
• If no one watched, they don’t have a game.
(Including Suzanne Collins,Gary Ross and other commentaries)
Peeta clicks off the tape and we sit there in silence for a while.
Finally Peeta says, “That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Center. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon.”
“Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too,” I say. “You know they didn’t expect that to happen. It wasn’t meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that’s why I don’t remember seeing it on television. It’s almost as bad as us and the berries!”
I can’t help laughing, really laughing, for the first time in months. Peeta just shakes his head like I’ve lost my mind—and maybe I have, a little.
“Almost, but not quite,” says Haymitch from behind us. I whip around, afraid he’s going to be angry over us watching his tape, but he just smirks and takes a swig from a bottle of wine.
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