" A Phoenix must burn before it rises. "
OR
In which two tributes not only find their way back to the Hunger Games, but back to each other.
Finnick Odair x Fem OC
Catching Fire
Book 1 in the 'Phoenix' series
Start...
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Phoenix looked down, her knee bouncing up and down restlessly. She couldn't bring herself to look at the other tributes as they awaited their evaluation, even if each tribute felt the same way she did.
Her mind raced with thoughts of everything she could do during her evaluation, and the more she pondered, the worse she felt. "Got any ideas of what you're doing?" Phoenix questioned, and as the silence from Cassian grew, a part of her wondered why she said anything.
"Gotta make them remember you," Cassian said, surprising Phoenix with the fact that he answered.
His words lingered, and she nodded, understanding that making an impression was crucial for their survival. No sooner had Cassian's response settled, Phoenix couldn't help but recall the morning before his original evaluation when she had shared the same advice with him. Making the words feel peculiar coming from him.
Just as Phoenix was going to reply, the intercom cut her off. "District 5; Cassian Layne, report for individual assessment." The speaker brought Phoenix out of the moment. "Good Luck," he said while standing up, leaving Phoenix once again with her thought This had marked their first exchange since the initial training day. Despite the feeling that months had passed since then, in reality, only a few days had passed since then.
Suddenly, her name echoed through the intercom for all the remaining tributes to hear. She could almost feel the different pairs of eyes on her as she stood up.
" Make them pay. "
A voice spoke quietly from behind her, causing Phoenix's head to snap towards the sound. She was met with a smirking Johanna Mason, nodding her head slowly at Phoenix. She returned the nod as the words repeated over and over in her mind.
Turning the corner, the doors swung open, and as Cassian passed her on the way in, Phoenix took a deep breath. Plutarch looked down at Phoenix as she entered the room, unsure of what to expect from the girl, yet confident the Gamemakers were in for a show. "Ms. Flack, you have 10 minutes to showcase your skills."
Looking up at the Gamkemakers filled Phoenix with a rage she had never felt before. Watching them peer down at her through the safety of their force field fueled her anger. They had broken promises, exploited her, and were now thrusting her back into the Games. She knew none of them cared about her, not even Plutarch cared if she survived
Scanning the room, her gaze darted between the three target dummies and the camouflage station, and suddenly, something clicked inside her. The array of throwing knives caught her eye, and she knew they were there for her. Picking up the sharpest 3 knives, Phoenix headed straight to the camouflage station
Looking down at the paint in front of her, Phoenix's hand reaches towards the dark red paint smearing it over her right hand, with the paint slowly dripping down her wrist. Advancing toward the 3 target dummies, Phoenix's intention becomes clear to Plutarch. She's set on taunting them. With purposeful hands, she smears red paint across each dummy's chest.
