The Runaway Victor | Book II

Chapter Six | Replacing Quinn

[AUTHORS NOTE]

EXCITING NEWS!! My friend and her friend (Ravenwit) will be writing a fanfiction of my Fanfiction! I can't wait to read and and you guys should keep an eye out for it! I'll keep you posted :)

Stay classy!

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It was strange, waking up in a nice room like she had before her games and in Victor's Village. But one thing was different from Victor's Village. In Four, she woke up every morning having no idea how she could get through it-- she had no idea how she could face the seventy-fourth games. So she didn't think about it, instead she drank and smoked until she couldn't really mentally see through things. Now, here in the Capitol she was there for a purpose. She had no idea how she would do things and not give away what little she had as a plan. But at least she was being a part of something that was attempting to stop the games for good.

The apartment that she had been brought to was on the top floor of a building. From her windows, she could see the entirety of the Capitol. She could see the sun and moon poking out and beginning to light up the city. It also wasn't far from the Presidents mansion-- where Orion had been left. They hadn't been there long, and Quinn had over heard a few women talking about how wonderful it was for Celestia to have her brother back and safe.

It was safer in the woods, Quinn had thought. At least there Capitol people weren't breathing down the back of his neck, waiting for his next step.

Quinn was brought to the Tribute Center, to meet with the Game makers and wait with them for the tributes private sessions. She had dug through her closet for what seemed like ever, nothing there caught her eye. But she settled with a white shirt, black pair of pants, and a pair of black shoes. She felt like she should have been put in some sort of uniform-- she had never gone into the Tribute Center in clothes she put on herself.

The other game makers wore nice clothes, not that hers weren't nice. It was just theirs were much nicer. Some of them wore all black and white like her, and some wore bright colours. Some had their hair down, like her. Some had their hair pinned or slicked back to look nicer than the others. When the peacekeepers first stepped aside to allow her into the room, Quinn couldn't move her feet.

Things had flipped. They had changed completely. Only a year earlier she was sitting in the room with twenty-three tributes, some of which she killed-- waiting for her fifteen minutes in front of the game makers. But now, she was one of the game makers waiting to judge someone and give them a score according to how well she thought they'd be able to kill someone else.

The balcony that they were all on was the exact same one as the one from the year before. Only with different color lights, furniture, and table decorations around the snacks. It over looked the same training area, which already had some things out and waiting. Including the targets that looked beaten up from the past few days of training. Quinn couldn't stop the frustration building up in her stomach, slowly filling her entire body even though she did her best to remind herself why she was there. But the fact that this was the room where things began to go horribly wrong for her...

"It'll be nice to have a fresh pair of eyes," a mans voice said kindly from a step behind her. "We've been watching this guys for three days, we all have our favourites already...between you and I." Quinn turned and came face to face with a game maker she didn't recognise. After a moment of silence, he stuck out his hand. "Plutach Havensbee,"

Quinn looked at his hand for a moment and then nodded, forcing herself to wear a friendly smile.

"Quinn Maverick, nice to meet you."