"Who is that?"
"That, Katniss, is Angelita Wave, the victor of the Seventy Second hunger games. A capitol favourite, their Angel."
"So she got lucky?"
"Oh no Katniss, 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣'𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚."
・゜゜・．.・゜゜・
( the hunger games fan...
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↓
┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐
Angels.
Everybody knows what they are. The people of district four would often pray to them, most would ask that they would protect their children from the horrors of the place we call Panem. Others would pray that their children would get accepted into the prestigious training academy nestled in the town square.
The victors knew this was a horrible idea, no matter how hard you train, the games were a death trap. Even if you survived them, your life would revolve around the games, you could never escape them. So some victors turned to alcohol, others to self-medication, but some just let it all tumble by. Praying that this year would be the year one of their tributes made it. But no matter if one of your tributes survived, the blood of twenty-three other children was on their hands. This kind of thing doesn't just go over a child's head. So they desperately wanted to warn these children, tell them to stop training and acting like these games were the event of the year, to comfort the winners and say that it's not their fault.
But they couldn't, they had a reputation to uphold after all.
However, maybe, just maybe, the child with the courage of a lion and the feathers of an angel would flap her wings and fan the already building fire of a revolution.
Or mabye the Mockingjay would do it for her.
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
OR.
IN WHICH ANGELITA WAVE DISCOVERS THAT NOT ALL ANGELS ARE PURE...
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