And so the horrible pain and bloodletting that was her employ was over, for now. Perhaps for a while now. The Quarter Quell was over and now maybe things could go back to normal. She had to admit a weary sense of defeat, though. Four extra Games and still no closer to a winner! Not for District Six anyway, and not for her. At times, especially looking in the mirror to retouch her make-up, or sometimes in the mornings, Junia could almost scream it out loud. Irregardless of her many talents, she was still a failure. She'd given up a lucrative and very successful career in modelling for this and all she had to show for it was a Champion. A fluke of the Quell, really, though the dear girl was a joy to be around with.
In fact, she had taken Windy out a few times now, sometimes going with some of her other young protogés, other times just enjoying the time spent together. It was another way of spreading her influence, of staying fresh in people's mind as someone with means and a caring heart. Of course, it was hard to pretend all the time. Over the years, sometimes without meaning to, she had found herself becoming a true friend to some of these girls she took under her wing. Not that she'd ever have qualms about exploiting their friendship for an important favor, but the connection was still there. Real.
So now here she was, at Hal's home in the lonely Victor's Village, knocking on his door. There was a thought that kept running through her head. It was the same topic they had talked about during the last Games, about somehow bending the rules of the game, getting someone to volunteer, someone with the potential to win and go back home a Victor. She wasn't sure she could speak to him about it here, but she could perhaps start a conversation that circled the topic, and maybe one day soon she could bring it up without being overheard.
She knocked on the door again, wearing a form-fitting dress in bright yellows and maroons. Her hair was adorned with lace and all sorts of delicate arrangements that may or may not have mimicked a floral arrangement. Her nails were uselessly long, but gorgeously painted to match her garment specifically. The make-up was matching.