[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."
He smiled, his blue eyes sparkled a bit. And his white hair was combed back like only a few others there. "It's a honour to meet you, I look forward to working with you for this years games."
She smiled a bit, "Well, I hope you'll be able to give me a few pointers. I'm not used to being on this side of things."
He chuckled, "Nothing to worry about, Ms. Maverick. Besides that, we'll be counting on you to help us read the tributes in the arena. You have an insight that we've very rarely had in the game making room."
"I'm glad I can be of some sort of assistance," she said, straining her voice to sound as pleasant as possible. Even though Plutarch had probably been behind one thing at least in the arena in her games, she thought she did pretty good at sounding nice.
"I see you've met our new addition?" the familiar, charismatic voice of Seneca Crane flowed through the game makers as he walked towards the two of them. "Pleasure to have you on our side now, Quinn."
Quinn gave him a small smile as she shook his hand. "I'm excited to see the games from this side too."
Seneca's smile faltered a bit. He understood what she meant, he had nearly killed her many times in the arena. She knew how brutal the game makers really were to the tribute for their entertainment. It wasn't just a game to her.
"Let's take our seats then, shall we?" he asked putting a hand on Plutarchs' should and Quinns' shoulder too. Then with that, the two of them followed Seneca and found a seat. And waiting for the male tribute from District One.
* * * *
Most of the tributes didn't pay much attention to the chatter amongst the game makers. Even though they turned their attention to the tributes for a bit, before long they were back to whispering among themselves. It was like a group of five year olds who had been told to pay attention but just can't contain themselves from telling their friends when they were doing that weekend. There was a handful of game makers who paid a bit more attention to the higher districts. Once they got to District Six, their attention span seemed to get even shorter.
Quinn could feel herself getting anxious more and more as some of the tributes stared at her. shocked to see her there, some looked betrayed too. But Quinn had decided to play up her facade as much as possible, she had to convince everyone that even she stopped rebelling against the Capitol. And if that meant making everyone think she was like the other game makers, then that was going to have to be what she'd do.
"Have any of them caught your eye?" Seneca Crane asked as he returned to his seat from getting something to drink.
"The girl from Two, Clove?" she replied, "She had good aim with small knives."
"She did, didn't she?" he sighed, "I have to be honest though, your skill last year was quite impressive. It'll be hard to beat."
"My skill last year was what got me in so much trouble," she replied, "Don't you think it was...uncalled for?"
"Considering everything that happened after it," he paused to take a sip of his punch. "I'd have to say it was quite uncalled for, but very memorable."
"Well I'm glad I could leave a bit of a impression." Quinn sighed as she then stood up at the doors to the training Center opened and in walked a girl. One with brown hair, and fair skin. And on her uniform read the number 12.
Quinn looked at her, watching her walk towards the game makers. The reason Quinn had stood up, to get a drink, had completely vanished. Just seeing Katniss Everdeen in the same place that she had been not all that long ago, and already labelling her as a rebel because she had volunteered-- making everyone in Panem feel some sort of emotion.
It was almost like Katniss walking into the room, as a tribute-- and as the radical tribute, it was like she was replacing Quinn as a rebel tribute. In one moment, Quinn felt like an old woman. But she was only seventeen, only a child who had survived too many nightmares. Quinn felt like she had aged twenty, maybe even thirty years just because of the games and then being told in Thirteen she would help rally people until someone who could lead them came around. So much had happened, so much had changed because of this moment.
This moment, Katniss' private session could either make her a rebel tribute and set her up for hell in the following weeks or even months-- maybe even years. Or it could make Quinn and Orion stay in the Capitol even longer.
"Katniss Everdeen, District Twelve..."
The game makers all began to quiet down and turned their attention to Katniss. Katniss then turned towards the rack that had the bow and arrows on it. She picked one up, and Quinn could practically feel her nervousness from her seat with the game makers. But that was probably because she remembered how it felt to be down there. Katniss aligned herself with a target and aimed her weapon of choice at it.
Quinn cringed at the sight of the arrow leaving her bow. She would still occasionally have a bit of pain in her leg from where she had been shot with one. For the first time in a while, Quinn thought about her old allies and what that was like in the arena. To be around someone for so long, only to know that you would or they would die at any moment.
Quinn felt her fingers curling tightly around the arm of her seat as she looked over at Seneca who had stood up and made his way over to the snack table where Avox's were setting new food. While Seneca let out a laugh about a plump roasted pig with an apple in its mouth, the other game makers also began to turn their attention away from Katniss Everdeen.
They were all so happy to see something so useless. And then they were all excited to turn kids against eachother...just like they had last year...
Quinn was snapped out of her rambling train of thoughts when the game makers fell completely silent; and Havensbee was started so much that he fell backwards knocking the punch bowl onto the floor. A few game makers stared at the pig in shock, but Quinn's view was abstracted by a woman's fluffy blue dress. So she stood up and peered around her as they began to look back at Katniss.
Instead of being in the pigs mouth, a silver arrow was stabbed through the apple and stuck to the wall. Quinn turned towards Katniss, just as shocked as the others as Katniss did a dramatic bow.
"Thank you, for your consideration." she stated sarcastically and then hastily hung the arrow back up and then turned and left the room.
At that moment, Quinn knew that Katniss was the one. She had to be. She easily could have killed one of the game makers. But instead, a girl from Twelve demanded their attention.