A Game Called Revenge ✭ Cato Hadley

Eleven - Nobody's Business

"ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴛ. ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪᴛ ɪɴꜱᴜʟᴛꜱ ᴍʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴍᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴀɴɢʀʏ."

"What the fuck."

The door slamming shut behind her snapped Clio out of her bewilderment as she felt her animosity begin to rise once more. Twelve heads snap towards her and the conversation ceases immediately. So much for an empty meeting room, she thinks. Part of Clio's mind is screaming at her to turn around and leave, pretend she didn't see anything so that she is less attached to her enemies in the arena; but her stubbornness wins over and she plants her feet firmly into the marble flooring as she decides to make life hell for everyone in the room. No one has spoken to her yet and she wonders who's going to be the first to address her. To tell her to leave.

She tilts her head as she awaits an address, defiance burning through the hazel of her eyes. The room is still silent. Looking them all in the eye, she takes note of everyone who is present in the room.

Haymitch. One.

She glares at him, all the resentment she feels towards Katniss is almost spilling out of her face, and by the look on the older man's face she can tell he's surprised that she hasn't made a scene yet; given her short fuse.

Beetee. Two.

She moves glare onto him next, as he looks down and refuses to meet her eyes. She knows she doesn't scare him, he's told her as much when he recounted how he didn't need to be close to kill off multiple people at once.

Wiress. Three.

Now Wiress is definitely at least a little scared of her, especially after her words at the farewell dinner. She's made certain of that when the woman looks helplessly around the room, locking onto everything that isn't Clio. She hasn't looked at any of the others yet either, Clio thinks, maybe we have our first weak link.

Male morphling. Four.

As Clio looks towards him, she's surprised to find that he holds her stare. She doesn't even know this man's name, she's seen him around at victor's events in the past year but not once has she heard even an utterance of what might be his name. At least she knows now he'll be easy to kill, the nameless ones always are.

Female morphling. Five.

She's unsurprised that she's in the room too, it's not uncommon for district partners to share an alliance. What does surprise her however is the fact that Haymitch is considering her of use to his tributes. She's of no use to them, she believes. In fact, she'll be surprised if both district six tributes make it past the first night before going in withdrawal.

Blight. Six.

Blight is another who refuses to meet Clio's glare. He stares directly ahead, almost in a daydream whilst his leg jostles underneath the table in a steady absentminded rhythm. She doesn't want to get on the wrong side of his axe but she's not particularly threatened, in fact, she finds herself quite enjoying the prospect of killing him after his choices at the dinner.

Mags. Seven.

Not Mags, Clio groans inwardly, though it quickly dawns on her that Katniss immediately grew fond of Mags over their limited interactions in the training centre and so it makes sense why she's included in their alliance meeting. Selfishly, a part of her is thankful that the elderly woman is included in their alliance as she deems none of these people trustworthy enough to protect the old woman, and so she likely won't have to be the one to end her life. This also brings up more feelings of disgust and hatred towards the tributes in the room, for setting vulnerable, loving Mags up for certain failure. Mags smiles warmly at the young girl before she directs her glare at the man next to her.