𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄 ━━ finnick odair ✓

𝐭𝐰𝐨. ( the making of a game )

 It turns out that the knowledge of the Quarter Quell brainstorming session isn't as much of a surprise as I thought it would be. Ronan very vaguely indicates that he's known for some time about the less than scrupulous following of rules. He's much more interested to hear about the specifics of what Seneca divulged to me. I provide everything I can remember, which is nearly everything word for word. My recall has only grown throughout my espionage efforts.

Ronan thanks me profusely for my attention to detail and asks me to probe as much as I can for more information regarding plans for the Quell and future game arenas as well. He says not to bother with the upcoming 74th games, as all of it has been planned out already.

The fact that he has such a complete knowledge on both the Quell protocols and the current construction of the new arena leads me to believe that he must have contact with one of the lesser gamemakers. Unlike the behavior that Seneca displays towards me would indicate, the nature of Hunger Games information is actually quite tight-lipped.

"Why does your gamemaker contact not already know about Seneca's ideas? It seems like they won't know for a while if you're this pleased to hear about it." I ask him calmly.

"How did you-" He cuts himself off mid reaction and stills, looking intently at me. "Did Blight tell you that?

"Blight hasn't told me anything. Is it Heavensbee or Burcatch?" I ask after a careful scan of the gamemaker list in my head. "No, nevermind, not Burcatch. He's got that bit of debt to Snow for getting his daughter into that art school. Maybe Lervian as well? No, no, not her. I guess it's got to be Heavensbee." Throughout the course of my rambling, Ronan's face remains impassive.

"Why do you think that?" He prompts me to explain myself.

"It's really just a matter of elimination. I researched all of them a while ago, it seemed a pertinent background for Seneca. The more I knew about his entire sphere, the more I could figure out how to milk him for anything important, you know? I just went through it all now to figure out who couldn't be your contact. By the process of elimination it simply has to be Heavensbee." I grin at Ronan's irritated face.

"You're a pain," he says.

"So I'm right?" I ask.

He looks at me a long moment before nodding. When I pump a fist in the air in a gloating gesture, he snorts a reluctant laugh.

"You know I have reasons for not telling you these things," he says when I've resumed a normal posture. "I want you to have as much plausible deniability as possible."

"I get that. But if I'm able to figure these things out without you telling me, it's your fault for not covering your tracks better." My tone is light, but I do hope to convey my genuine worry in the words.

"You're not wrong," he agrees, looking at me thoughtfully. "I want you to do some digging, let's see what else you can find out. Then maybe you can help us fix those loose ends."

"Deal, but you have to tell me if I'm correct in my findings."

"I can do that, to a reasonable extent." He nods.

"For now you need to work on getting Heavensbee dirtier, there's literally no rumors circulating about him. It's kind of obvious that he doesn't like the Capitol culture of the filthy rich. Get him to buy some prostitutes and embezzle a bit. Murdering the prostitute would be even more perfect." I wave a hand in the air, pairing the embellishment with a lack of seriousness.