-Callista, probably
Misha: Am I in trouble?
Lyme: Take a guess.
Misha: No?
Lyme: Take an another guess.
Adessa: Knock knock.
Iris, sighs: Who is it?
Adessa: Ivan Urder.
Iris: Ivan Urder, who?
Adessa: I want murder. Get it?
Iris: I am tired, Sunshine.
Adessa headcanons:
Her favourite animal was a porcupine when she was younger. She is not a touchy feely person so naturally she favoured an animal which she finds adorable but not necessarily for petting. (She adopted one of Ronan's puppies, Resilience, but that's another topic to discuss.)
She has an obsession over carrots -her comfort vegetable, really-and eats them when she is not in the best mood because she can't eat liquor chocolate all the time.
A Sagittarius.
Adessa and Odin probably encountered few times before the games and ever since then, he is so young and gullible in her eyes, though he is not the Official Infant yet.
She had puppets when she was younger and she enjoyed playing with them- and make them have surgeries by cutting them apart, which is, not the most preferable thing for her parents. (Violet and Jameson are horrified.)
I blame @randomfacter and our hilarious conversations for the creation of this.
Callista: Since you like people's mind and intellectual strength like the nerd you are, have you ever been interested in women before?
Adessa: I've never really thought about it.
Callista: Oh, would I ever be in your option list? I am not that stupid!
Adessa: I guess you would.
Callista: Can you write this down? I want everyone to acknowledge this!
Adessa: No. I will not.
Callista: Fine. *shows a voice recorder and plays the latest record, which is Adessa and Beetee's moanings* Your choice.
Adessa: I will just claim the hormones.
Ronan: So, what, now I'm just suppose to do anything that Adessa does? I mean, what if she jumped off a cliff!?
Snow: If Adessa were to jump off a cliff, she would have done her due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Adessa jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff.
Ronan: You jump off a cliff!
Snow: Gladly. Provided Adessa did it first.
Adessa/Callista/Enobaria: I prevented a murder today.
Iris/Hera/Nero: Really? How'd you do that?
Adessa/Callista/Enobaria: Self control.
Summary: Just when she thought fate would be kind to her for once, her mentor forced Iris to spend the time with her new Victor-sister. Iris wishes she had refused but everyone deserves a first chance, right?
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.)
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