vxctxrx:
the bloodbath had been an atrocity, frankly. as exquisite as a bloodbath could be, when the tributes kill each other in the same ways over and over again, it becomes a bit boring. seriously, she had said from her lofty position on her chaise to chazwell (her latest guest), if i see one more tribute toss another overboard, i think i’m gonna hurl. when he finally came up for air, he affirmed her sentiment – but wait for it, he had said, the morning after is always the best part.
well, she decided once day two came and went with another round of boredom, it seems that chazwell is only good for certain things, after all.
the clicking of six-inch heels atop a freshly cleaned tile-floor always did something to yessica santos. her heart skipped a beat as she entered one of the designated areas for sponsors within the training centre to the sound of that sweet click-clack-click-clack. oh, she thought as she slipped off her sheer wrap and let the girls breathe, today’s gonna be a good day.
“good morning! how are we doing – good? excited? nervous? just vomited in the trashcan?”
@ttwstarters
there were some people that gloss just knew about. being such a ‘high profile’ person in the capitol meant that one had to keep an ear out for people he should be associating with, and one of those people was yessica santos. anyone from one of the inner districts or who spent frequent time in the capitol knew of her, and when started a conversation with you, you were not to turn her down.
he smirked, leaning against the wall he was standing against with his arms folded across his chest. “no trashcan vomit here,” he said, with a small chuckle. “we’re doing good today, i can’t remember the last time i’ve felt this confident in a tribute.”












