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What color is your aura?

Ivelina DeLuca

Pearl

Strangers. Allies. Friends. Enemies.

A trident buried deep into the chest cavity of another Victor, with a sickening thunk! and body tossed into the water, Katniss still reeling from the shocking reveal of Finnick Odair’s gold bracelet.

A trinket.

Effie.

Her hand grips the base of her weapon, eyes never straying from Finnick for too long while keeping her peripheral and ears open for the sounds of other tributes. A target on her back. The reason they’re all here.

For now, it seems, they can catch their breath. The humidity has her uniform and long dark tresses sticking to her skin and face. ❝ Back there… you saved me. ❞ She states — rather, demands — hair on the back of her neck and arms practically standing like a hissing cat’s. There’s no Peeta here to reassure or naively accept Finnick’s intentions.

❝ Unless you plucked that bracelet off the body of someone else and are pretending to be an ally to gain my trust. ❞ Wouldn’t be completely outside the realm of possibilities. Tributes would do anything to win, especially past Victors. And Finnick seemed the type that was more than a charming smile and silver tongue.

A   PARTICULARLY   LUCRATIVE   PUBLIC   MARKET   DAY   grants   her   a   rare   night   off   ,   somehow   .   she's   almost   always   pushed   to   stay   and   help   the   family   ,   dealing   in   plants   always   means   that   busy   days   mean   busier   nights   restocking   .   but   today   ,   it'd   been   her   sister   tapped   to   help   .   she   had   to   learn   somehow   was   the   going   refrain   ,   and   asterid   wasn't   wont   to   complain   .

it's   on   impulse   that   she   seeks   out   her   classmate   ,   begging   him   away   to   go   on   a   walk   with   her   .   she   swears   up   and   down   that   it   isn't   safe   to   walk   alone   ,   how   safe   she   feels   with   a   friend   to   keep   her   company   .   in   the   dimming   twilight   ,   she   can   see   the   fading   sun   throw   golden   fire   through   @conscriptur 's   hair   .   if   anyone's   radiant   ,   it   ought   to   be   otho   by   definition   ,   but   she   laughs   regardless   .   ❝   you're   too   sweet   .   real   funny   ,   too   ,   ❞   asterid   hummed   ,   kicking   lightly   at   the   dirt   beneath   her   feet   while   they   walked   .

"I'm almost done. If you move too much, you may end up with a too-long nose or different colored eyes," Genya mused, her tone half-teasing, half-warning. She trusted her skills enough not to make such a rookie mistake, but Nikolai was an unfamiliar canvas - and closeness, whether or not Genya liked to admit it to herself, didn't come easy for her yet. It was not his fault, yet the tension in her body was there all the same, following instinct rather than logic.

Her fingers tugged at the invisible string connected to his skin, feeling the pull and answering the call. The cut on his face was nearly imperceptible now, no scar or trace of any redness. Genya wondered if the process was uncomfortable for him; she'd gotten so used to tailoring herself, she barely felt any of it anymore.

"I still think you should see a healer, though," she added, briefly looking up to meet his gaze as she worked. "If you're hurt, I can't fix what's underneath."

@conscriptur . Finnick gets to mentor Fish🐬

The Capitol train was taking her far from home, like a ruthless hand ripping her away from the waves. She found it hard to breathe; a proverbial fish out of water. Out the window, the landscapes were stretched by speed, blurring into nothingness as she stared mindlessly at the haze of green and blue.

She already missed the beach, the sailor's bar, and the smell of iodine at the port. What would the Capitol smell like? Ripping her eyes away from the window, she glanced at Finnick. He was famous in District 4, and she supposed she was lucky to have a popular mentor. Fish Monet was well aware that the Hunger Games were more than a fight to the death. They were a popularity contest, too. And she wanted to win.

She wanted to win more than anything else. It was like her mother had said before the peacekeepers took her to the train station. She had to come home, nothing else mattered.

"Where do we begin?" she finally asked out of the blue. "I need a strategy, right?" Her mind was already racing, her heart thundering in her chest. Oh, how she missed the ocean! She almost wanted to jump out the window, but knew that she'd get shot before she could even reach the shore.

@conscriptur sent : they must be very proud of you. the hunger games prompts . status : accepting ! (Finnick)

Pride was a common idealisation that anyone from two ought to have been thoroughly involved with; it was what they were striving for in the end and yet pride about a victory was nothing that was much accustomed in families. Victory was expected rather than desired, families buried in shame for those who had died. They claimed dying in the name of two for the games was a great honor, that regardless of whether you won or died, you were a hero, yet those were stories fed to children, stories, tales, and lies. Cato was not overly shocked when his own paranoia had begun to intensify with every further word Finnick uttered. He then shakes his head, the muscles of his jaw gradually tightening. ❛   Why would they?   ❜ A lopsided grin tugs at the corner of his lips before he finally finds the other’s gaze, giving him a once-over. His features did not contort; doe like eyes encapturing each other in all seriousness. Was that something four practiced? Being proud of their winners? ❛   I did what I was expected to do. They’re satisfied, but never proud. Don’t tell me yours are.   ❜ 

they're not talking about father, of course. madge tracks whatever space between katniss' victor's house to peeta's own seeing as it is the way to exit the neighbourhood anyhow. she's never liked it here, but it's an opinion she isn't allowed to have. she doesn't like anywhere in twelve in truth, but again, that feels blasphemous, and wrong.

how could madge hates the only place she's ever known ? she doesn't know, but she does.

❛⠀she went out. ❜ madge explains now that she's come closer, trying her best to reel in the disappointment from seeing katniss' back as she joined gale hawthorne towards a track madge wouldn't be able to keep up with, ten minutes ago.