Okay, maybe snatching a bottle from Haymitch of all people wasn't smart. And maybe daring Gale and Beetee to a drinking match wasn't smart either. But it's either stumbling back to her room like a giggling Capitol schoolgirl humming some long forgotten tune (that remind her of hempen ropes and collapsing mines) or staying up with Coin and Haymitch and plan out a war she kinddamaybesortastarted. Sue her for getting fucking drunk, why don't you.
Nifty, she thinks, pulling the trigger and releasing another gout of flames down into the hole.
A few hologram projectors, the image of a forgotten care package wrecked enough to look like it was genuinely misdropped, and a deep enough hole. Anyone would fall for it, any mother or father with a starving child, a rebel hurt enough to desperately need the medical supplies seemingly close at hand, even a child that thought she was safe with a squad of rebels.
A child that thought she would win a prize if she pointed and reached the special treasure before The Mockingjay did. If The Capitol put a couple hundred of tracker jackers into that hole to ensure no one survived, well, that's just pure fucking brilliance isn't it?
Nifty she thinks, pulling the trigger again.
She finds it fucking hysterical. She has been looking for death, desperately seeking it out by throwing herself headfirst into suicide missions like she was a goddess of war. It never came, because its her and why expect things to go her way?
Her image throughout the Districts rose with every nest of rats she was sent to clear out. Of course, that doesn't stop her from hoping someone would have the damn balls to shoot her already. It's not that hard, she uses a bow and arrow for Pete's sake! But no, she doesn't die. It's just eveyone around her that gets to bite it in her place.
So yes, bugger her for keeling over laughing hysterically because she just found out one thing: She cant die! She downed a hovercraft as it prepared a bombing run and watched with malicious glee as it headed straight for her not three minutes ago.
She opened her arms, closed her eyes and awaited the end.
Imagine her surprise when she not only opens them again, a very not-dead thing to do, and realizes the hovercraft not only missed her but that it split in two right in front of her and repainted the floor with her squad.
She's Life's personal fucking joke, and might as well laugh, laugh hysterically at it all.
She always did wonder why it took them so long. If you go as far as using incendiary weapons why the hell not go the whole way and just throw chemical weapons into the mix too? It wasn't as though Snow gave half a damn this late into the war, that decrepit fuck wanted to rest easy over a comfy little mountain of rebel corpses and collateral damage be damned!
She does eventually manages to secure a radio for pickup a couple minutes later, informing Coin that of course she's alive. Beete made her a mask, after all it didn't take much cajoling from Katniss when they were so close to the Capitol.
There are questions later of course, like why did it take her so long to secure a radio to call for pickup when her squad had a radioman to begin with? That then leads to the question of why she was short a combat knife, three arrows, and an entire pistol clip? And since they're on gear check already the most important question is why are there bloody handprints on her mask and why is the left lense of it slightly cracked?
She doesn't answer, her hand clenching and shaking lightly as as she stares ahead.
The questions stop there.