"I'm not fond of bad manners."
Lara rolled her eyes at her dramatic stylist.
"And I'm not fond of sparkles and yet you still insist I wear them."
The woman simply faked a smile before turning her attention back to the now opened elevator doors. She stepped out onto the nostalgic floor of the Capitol apartment building.
Truth be told, it was breathtaking. But not in the way where its appearance is marveled. No...Lara lost her breath because of the sheer memories the place brought back.
Her first reaping. Training. Interviews. The 68th Hunger Games. Winning.
All of it was brought back by the lavishness of the Capitol, which she was repulsed by every time she was there. Anger and resentment, both old and new, flooded her system.
She immediately set down her bag near the door and thumped down on the nearest couch. Her corresponding male victor, Octavian Tyn, instead found an empty room and slammed the door shut behind him.
Their stylist, Calisor, scoffed at both of the victor's attitudes.
"I'm assuming since neither of you wanted a mentor, you'll be training yourselves?" he asked impatiently.
Lara shrugged and laced her fingers together, hooking them behind her head in a relaxing position.
"You'll need to research your opponents," he added, hinting at something, "The games aren't easily won, you know."
"Oh that's funny," Lara chuckled, "Have you ever been in one?"
Whenever she used that line, it usually got people to shut up. Being an actual winner of the Hunger Games, she knew just how difficult it was to survive. The people in the Capitol simply didn't understand that.
"Cal, I just want one day to myself before I go off into this hellish fight again. Will you leave?"
She didn't mean to come off rude, but that's how she naturally sounded. Ever since her games, she'd been known to be abrasive and aggressive.
Cal knew that and he huffed. He packed away his things and found another room down the hall next to Octavian's.
Lara sighed in both content and frustration. She knew a peaceful day would never happen, no matter how much she tried to fool herself. Her mind was itching with questions, plans, and strategies.
Little did she know that every other tribute was feeling the same way, despite how much they tried to hide it. The ones most especially impacted by the weight of the Quarter Quell were the newbies, Katniss and Peeta.
They had Haymitch and Effie showing them the previous victors, describing each former tribute and listing their strengths and weaknesses.
"Cashmere and Gloss, District 1. Brother and sister who won back to back games," Haymitch stated, "Capitol favorites with lots of sponsers. The other half of the Career pack is Brutus and Enobaria."
"What's with her teeth?" Katniss asked.
Effie, Peeta, and Haymitch all looked at the screen to see a clip of Enobaria baring razor sharp fangs.
"She had them filed into fangs so she could rip peoples throats out."
Peeta shrugged in half amazement, adoring the woman's commitment. Haymitch moved on to the next victors.
"Wiress and Beetee. Not fighters, but brilliant...and weird. Real tech savvy."
He pointed to the older man, Beetee.
YOU ARE READING
PAWNS | FINNICK ODAIR
Fanfiction"We were never victors anyway." Anyone who won the games knew that. But they never expected to be thrown back into the fight for their lives again. Too many enemies. Not enough allies. One purpose... Rebel. Finnick Odair x OC
