A Game Called Revenge ✭ Cato Hadley

Sixteen - Are You Ready For It?

"ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ, ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ."

Water.

The smell of water hits her nostrils as she ascends into the arena, the liquid the first and only thing Clio sees as she tries to get her bearings. It's everywhere as she turns, the sun's reflection blinding her and forcing her to bring her left hand up to shield her eyes as she squints to examine her surroundings while the platforms lock into place and the sixty second countdown begins. The water smells clean enough, it's nothing like the sewage water that was present in her Games. It doesn't look as though it needs to be filtered but as it's a Quarter Quell she knows she should wait for a moment to see the condition of the water - if this arena is anything like those used in the previous quells then it could kill her in seconds. Her eyes lock onto the cornucopia, finding herself staring at the back of the structure, the silver glint of weapons peeking out from around the walls.

"Fifty-nine."

Jolting slightly at the voice, Clio glances around the arena, trying to document as much as she could. Behind the cornucopia, she can see a dense rainforest with tall trees extending skyward and lush tropical foliage sheltering a soft, sandy beach that sits at the edge of the water surrounding the rocky island. As she pivots, she takes in the shape of the arena. From her position standing on the water - on the metal plate in the middle, that is - she can see the dark blues of the central body of water, hinting at its depth as it curves round in a seemingly perfect circle; slow, calm ripples of waves neatly brushing against the edge of the beach.

"Forty."

Where the fuck is Cato? She thinks, her eyes scanning the faces of the tributes around her. Looking to her left she spots a line of black rocks, and she follows them with her eyes from the beach behind her all the way to the island cornucopia. The rocks, spiked from all sides but flat on top, clearly designed for running atop, seem several feet away. The other side of the rocky strip, she locks eyes with a panicked looking Peeta. His head swivels rapidly from side to side, freezing when he meets her eyes before swallowing, mouth set in a firm line as he focuses on the Cornucopia ahead of him. She wonders if the boy can even swim. His eyes give away his panic and even as she watches him attempt to calm his nerves, chest heaving as he breathes deeply, he pretends not to feel her stare. If he can't swim then his chances of even getting to the bloodbath are so small, there's no point in wasting energy on him, she thinks, I'll just leave him to drown.

"Thirty."

When the voice startles her she averts her gaze from Peeta, and begins to search for Cato again. Where the fuck is he? She thinks, narrowing her eyes. Immediately to her right is the man from Ten and on his right is another line of rocks. Clio's eyes measure the distance from the man beside her and the spokes, realising that two tributes are sandwiched between each line of rocks. As her eyes move around the circle of water, she counts each of the rock boundaries that she can see. Eight strips of black spokes, separating the arena into equal segments two tributes at a time like spokes from the middle of a wheel. There's got to be twelve segments to represent the number of Districts.

"Twenty."

Just past the man from Ten, her eyes find an anxious Wiress who looks at the jungle to her right before turning her attention to the Cornucopia directly ahead of her. Within the next section over, she spots Johanna who, to no one's surprise, looks angry as she raises an eyebrow at Wiress and gives a small nod of her head in the direction of the jungle. Was that an instruction to avoid the bloodbath? Clio asks herself. Is Johanna protecting Nuts and Volts? Dismissing her thoughts as something to worry about after the bloodbath she looks back towards Peeta, and sees Seeder shaking on her platform beside him as she quietly observes the environment. To her left she finds Finnick who is perched precariously on the balls of his feets as he rests in a low stance on his platform. Clio watches him for a moment as he runs his eyes across the top of the water, barely refraining from reaching forward and splashing at the surface. He tilts his head to the side to catch the reflection at a different angle before nodding to himself and rising to a stand once more as he shuffles his feet to ready himself. His eyes meet Clio's, giving her a confident smile until she moves on, quickly deciding that he must have deemed the water safe enough to swim in, but also reminding herself to not dive straight in until the fishboy from Four has emerged from it unharmed.