"The Tribute"
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
The smiling face of Dolon Craddel would normally provide Winter with a sense of relief but today it did not.
The second her eyes found him in the busy room her stomach dropped and she felt her knees grow weak. Good things did not follow when he was around, especially on Reaping Day. Despite graduating from the Academy last year, Dolon and Winter had managed to stay good friends, she continued with her last year of studies and he took up a job as the assistant of the infamous Dr. Volumnia Gaul. Him being here meant that she couldn't be far behind and that's what invoked the reaction from the girl.
In her eighteen years of life, she had yet to come across someone who unsettled her the way Dr. Gaul did. She was a twisted woman who took pleasure in the pain that the Hunger Games caused the people in the districts, spending the year between each plotting something more vile and heinous than before to throw at them.
She had sunk her venomous claws into Winters father and the man was too weak to resist, allowing himself to be controlled by her puppeteer-ing hands. She knew Gaul had been watching her, she knew that the woman wanted to have full control over her in the same way she did her father, collect them like sought after prizes to display on a shelf, but she put up a fight. She refused to be a part of such a monstrous thing, the Hunger Games destroyed people's lives, not only in the District's but here in the Capitol too. Her family was a shining example of that.
Her father, Casa Highbottom, the Dean of the Academy, had been the one to create the Games. It had been a mistake. A simple assignment given to him by Dr Gaul during his time at the university, it had never been intended to see the light of day. The betrayal of Crassus Snow had been his downfall, it saw his darkest thoughts be made reality, and he had only been declining since, relying on morphling to help shield himself from the true impact of his actions. He had become a joke to the students of the Academy who often called him 'High-as-a-Kite Bottom', a name Coriolanus Snow had cleverly coined. The board of the Academy were loosing patience with him, his health was declining and he was just pathetically waiting for the day his heart would give out.
Her mother, Gaia, had been a saint, a prominent rose in a bushel of thorns, and had once been a happy, loving woman, that was until the first Hunger Games. She had been told it was a game show, the content of which has not been disclosed to her until she watched as children were forced into an arena to fight for their lives. It had killed her. She became burdened with the grief of all the mothers forced to send their children to their deaths at the hands of the man she had loved. Haunted by thoughts of 'what if it had been Winter?'. Her home, a place she had once been proud of, had become a graveyard, and the thought of this continuing with her family's name at the forefront only made it worse. When she died Winter felt a part of her, the part that made her think being a Highbottom wasn't so bad, die, too.
The influence of the mother had latched onto her daughter. Winter despised her father for what he had done, blamed him for her mother's death, and renounced any involvement with him.
They weren't a family, merely two strangers with shared names and shared blood.
That's why her heart pounded as Dolon waved her over, a million different thoughts running through her head, all bad, as she resisted the urge to book it back out the door and instead, sucked in a breath and made her way through the crowds gathered in Heavensbee Hall, over to him as he spoke to Professor Sickle with a smile on her lips.
It had become second nature to Winter at this point, the facade she displayed to her peers was one of a calm and collected girl, not daring to let them see the self hatred and disgust she held for herself, for her family name, they'd tear her apart like ravenous dogs, desperate to rip out her insides and dine on her troubling thoughts and darkest secrets.
She hadn't done this, she had no involvement in the Hunger Games but it didn't seem to matter, her name was always going to be a direct association with it. She'd never be free of them, it was a weight she'd have to bare for the rest of her life, and she could already feel herself buckling under it.
"Good morning, Miss. Highbottom," The woman greeted as she settled beside them. "Such an exciting day! The Plinth Prize winner is here in this room." Winter offered the woman a soft smile, that had been the reason for their gathering at the Academy. While Winter was flattered that her performance had gained her recognition amongst her peers she knew that if she were to win the Plinth Prize she wouldn't be able to accept the money. Her life had been planned out for as long as she could remember, her place at the University had been secured since she was a child, there were families who didn't have that luxury, who needed this to keep their status, who were too proud to admit it. If she were to win she would thank but politely decline Strabo Plinth's generous gift, and insist that it be given to the runner-up.
"Yes, very exciting," She replied, her tone lacking the enthusiasm her words called for. Professor Sickle didn't catch it and instead smiled before excusing herself as she spotted a group of students trying to sneak out, leaving Winter alone with Dolon. She studied him for a few seconds, trying to find a crack in his exterior that would reveal his true motives for being here.
"You're dress is-"
"Why are you here?" Winter cut him off with narrowed eyes earning a laugh from the young man.
"Jeeze, I'm glad to see you too, Winnie." He smiled at her bluntness. "I've been good, a little tired but other than that... thanks for asking." Her unamused expression made his eyes roll. "What? Can't I come see you win this prize?"
"Dolon," She warned. "I'm being serious."
"I'm here on official Capitol business," He admitted in a low tone, Winter took a step closer to him and urged him to further explain. "No can do, kiddo, all will be revealed by Dr. Gaul soon."
"She's here?" Winter muttered, almost afraid that if she were to speak her name she would appear and snatch her away. Her fingers found her hair, twisting and combing through the satin curls in an unconscious effort to self-sooth.
"It's Reaping Day," Her body jerked back as if the boy before her had suddenly burst into flames. She felt the world around her begin to crumble and the pieces merge back together to create a clearer picture.
Of course, she thought, how foolish she had been to think that there would be no catch to the Plinth Prize. Her eyes suddenly took in the hall as if seeing it for the first time. Capitol high-ups mingled in the crowds, Peacekeepers lined the walls, and here was Dolon, the right hand of the mad woman behind it all. This wasn't just a gathering to announce who the winner of the Plinth Prize was, this was a gathering for the tenth anniversary of the Games.
"What is she going to do?" The girl had to dig her perfectly manicured fingernails into the palm of her hands to stop her eyes from welling up, to stop herself from causing a scene. Dolon watched, absorbed her reaction and took a step closer. As he opened his mouth to speak his name was called by an official-looking woman holding a clipboard.
"She's ready for you," She told him, Dolon nodded his head before taking a step back.
"Just relax," He told Winter, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning on his heels to leave.
She stood there, alone in the crowd trying her best to get her mind right. The Games, they're going to involve the Games. She couldn't do it, she couldn't be here with them as they drank and ate and celebrated something so horrific. Fight or flight took hold and Winter found herself beelining for the nearest exit as fast as her legs would take her without actually sprinting. She wished she had sprinted because she didn't make it very far when her path to freedom was blocked by the handsome face of Coriolanus Snow.
His blue eyes scanned her from head to toe taking in her frazzled appearance, her long ginger curls jutting out of place, a startling contrast to the slick, silk-like state they were normally in. She wore the dress Tigris had worked on for her, a beautiful knee-length, black dress with long sleeves that clashed harshly against her pale skin, yet she still managed to make it look good. He could remember finding his older cousin hunched over their kitchen table meticulously sowing lace details to the expensive-looking fabric, she never complained, not once in the past year of Winter specifically asking for her dress alterations to be done by Tigris instead of her boss. She was grateful for the learning opportunities, grateful for the money she was paid.
"Winnie," His voice was as smooth as silk as he greeted her. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" The girl swallowed, her eyes catching the grand doors of Heavensbee Hall being closed over his shoulder. She had missed her shot.
"Oh, Coryo," She smiled softly doing her best to conceal her upset, her eyes dropping to his shirt, the same shirt Tigris had been mending that morning, avoiding the question she told him, "You look smart."
"You're a picture, as always." A blush dusted the girl's freckled cheeks as she smoothed down her dress. It wasn't true, not today at least. Coriolanus had never seen her look as distorted as she did standing before him, like a scared lamb in a den of hungry lions.
He wondered if she was trying out a new fashion look. If her dress might have fit just a bit too tight, or was washed with the wrong soaps as he spotted a red rash bloom on her neck, barely peaking up over the neckline of her dress, or if she had stuck a fork into an electrical outlet to achieve more volume in her hair.
Everything about the way she looked felt wrong, as if she had been dragged here, or had just fought for her life.
"Have you seen Sejanus?" Coriolanus pursed his lips at the mention of the boy's name. Sejanus Plinth, the District Two-born boy whom he had spent the past ten years battling for the affections of Winter with. Not that Sejanus knew, or Winter for that matter, they were friends and nothing more, but it still irked him.
Coriolanus had known her longer which gave him a better claim over her, he had seen her through ups and downs and had been the shoulder she cried on after her mother had died. She was like him, a pedigree, and the Plinth boy was District scum, if Winter belonged to anyone it was him.
It was written in the stars after all, winter wasn't complete without snow.
"No," He replied, masking the bitterness in his tone well. "I'll bet he's just running late is all." Winter nodded, accepting that her plan of asking him what was going on wasn't going to happen. "Come on," He offered her his arm. "Everyone's been wondering where you've been." Begrudgingly accepting that there was no way out of this she took his arm and allowed him to lead her over to their group of friends.
Friends is a term Winter would use loosely to describe the people in front of her. They weren't her friends, Coriolanus, Sejanus, Dolon and Clemensia were her friends, the trio before her were nothing but suck-ups who liked the power her family name held and the money they possessed more than they did her.
Arachne beamed at the sight of the pair, a smug grin covering her lips as they settled before them.
"We were beginning to worry you'd run off, Winnie," She sang, her tone mocking. While Winter had never publicly declared her hatred for the Hunger Games, she was smarter than that, it was easy to see that she held some sort of dislike for them: distancing herself from them, turning down the advances that Dr. Gaul placed out for her, never attending any of the fundraising events. It came across as her being ungrateful for the life her father had provided for her, she'd rather people think she was ungrateful than participate in such cruelty.
"And miss seeing you lose out on the Plinth Prize?" She replied in the same mocking tone. "Not a chance." Arachne's eyes narrowed into venomous slits and she stuck her chin in the air, refusing to let the girl's words have an effect on her.
"Have you tried this lamb?" Winter jerked her head back as the plate of food Felix Ravinstill, the President's son, was holding was thrust into her face. "It's scandalous."
"Maybe later," Winter told him as she pushed it down, watching as he shrugged before picking another piece up with his fingers to place in his mouth.
"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers, Felix. Daddy not teach you table manners?" Festus Creed spat.
"Maybe he would have if he wasn't so busy running the country," He shot back. "They called us here for the Plinth Prize, right? Because I heard Dr. Gaul is in the building." At that statement all eyes fell on Winter, waiting to hear what insider knowledge she had.
"She is," Winter's fingers found her hair again. "I've just been speaking with Dolon."
"Did he tell you why?" Festus pushed.
"No," She shook her head. "Told me it was official Capitol business before he was rushed off."
"Plinth," Felix scoffed at the name, turning the conversation back to the reason why they had been gathered. "Look at his spawn," Winter's brow furrowed as the group turned to the family of three who stood at the other side of the room.
Sejanus Plinth was speaking softly to his mother, his father standing tall and proud beside her. The sight of him settled her nerves, it was a good thing him being her, she concluded, Sejanus was the best of them, his judgement was something she trusted fully. If he was here things couldn't have been as bad as she originally thought.
"Who would have thought you could buy your way into the Capitol?"
"Well, you can't buy class," Festus chuckled. "Did you see his mother's outfit? I'm sorry, his ma's." Winter scoffed in disgust at his words, she found their aversions to the Plinths to be a funny thing. They were bitter that a family originally from District Two had climbed to the top of the Capitols hierarchy with more money than their families combined. It was easy to spot their jealousy, they didn't do well to hide it.
New money had been a rare thing in the Capitol, the families that resided there benifited from generational wealth, and the Plinths had disrupted that. After ten years in the Capitol it was still easy to see the hatred people held for them.
"Dress a turnip in a ballgown, it'll still beg to be mashed." Coriolanus felt Winter's elbow jab into his ribs at the cruel comment he had made but he paid no mind to it and instead shared laughs with his friends. Hearing him talk about the Plinths in such a disrespectful way was a new thing to her, as far as she was aware he had always liked Sejanus, and he certainly liked his mother's baked goods.
"Don't do that," Arachne spat. "We all know you like him."
"I don't like him, Arachne, I tolerate him. He's District."
"Stop it!" Winter snapped, having heard enough of their slander, all eyes falling on her again. "Leave him alone."
"It's sweet of you to defend your lapdog like that, Winnie," Festus chuckled.
"He's my friend," She replied earning laughs from the trio before her.
"The sooner you realize that associating with him is dragging your name through the mud, the better," Arachne smirked. "Your daddy didn't work hard to give you all this only for you to toss it back in his face by befriending a District boy." Winter took a step towards her but was softly pushed back by Coriolanus. How dare she! How dare she speak about her life, a life she knew nothing about.
"Tolerate him, just don't encourage him," Festus told the tall, blonde boy beside him. "If I hear one more time how immoral the Hunger Games are, I'll put him in the arena mys-" His words died on his lips as Sejanus stopped between him and Coriolanus, eyebrows raised, challenging him to continue. A fake smile covered Festus' lips, the same Winter had seen one too many times be directed at her. These people were as two-faced as they come, she knew that they were nice to her face and ripped her to shreds behind her back, it's didn't take a genius to figure that one out. "Sejanus! You made it to the Reaping for once." Sejanus let his eyes move to Winter and Coriolanus, offering them a soft smile before turning back to the boy who had addressed him.
"And you made it to graduation, Festus. We're both shocked." The chuckle that left Winter's lips made Sejanus smile wider.
"Spill it," Arachne ordered, her eyes scanning him. "Who won the prize?"
"I'm not gonna ruin my father's day," He told her, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his pants. "No one here actually likes him but they do love his money," He licked his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes. "You know what that's like, don't you, Arachne?" The girl's mouth fell open in shock and her brows furrowed.
"Funny." She snarled. Sejanus only smiled as the Capitol's anthem began to blare, signalling for the students to take their seats. Coriolanus turned to offer Winter his arm but she skirted around him and latched onto Sejanus' bicep, smiling at him from ear to ear.
"I've not had the greatest morning, but watching you put them in their place has changed that," She admitted making him laugh, a blush covering his cheeks.
"Glad I could be of service," She wasted no time sliding her arm through his, allowing him to lead her over to a special section of chairs, six rows by four, that had been set up for the prize candidates.
"Dr Gaul's here," She told him softly as they walked, Sejanus let his eyes drop down to her. "I was speaking with Dolon, he didn't tell me what she was here for but... I just know it can't be good."
"Nothing good ever comes from Dr. Gaul," He agreed, placing his hand on top of hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze before swallowing hard. He motioned for her to take a seat at the front, after she did he took the space to her right, seconds later Coriolanus dropped himself into the chair on her left, his eyes studying her as she picked at the plumb-colored polish on her nails. After a few seconds of debating Sejanus leaned closer to the pair, catching their attention. "Hey, listen," He began in a soft voice, his eyes locked on Coriolanus. "I know you have high hopes for this-" Winter furrowed her brow and turned to the blonde boy beside her who sat poker straight, keeping his eyes locked ahead of him. "-but there is no prize today... Not anymore." All hope that everything was going to be okay vanished in a flash. She knew it, she knew that nothing good would ever come without payment. "I'm so sorry."
"What?!" The boy hissed as his face screwed up.
"What are they going to make us do?" Sejanus couldn't find the words to answer Winter, her big glassy eyes breaking his heart. He couldn't tell her, his body wouldn't let him. He watched as she sucked in a shaky breath, her hands anxiously rubbing up and down her thighs while her eyes worked in over time, scanning the room, racking her brain for any excuse to leave. He grabbed both of her hands in one of his own and cradled them warmly in an attempt to provide her some comfort.
"It's going to be alright," He assured her softly. "We'll get through this, together."
The maniacal laughter of Dr Gaul made the girl sink further into her chair, her eyes watching as she took the podium at the front of the stage, the twisted grin of a hyena on her face. Years of successful evasion of the woman had all led to nothing, Winter had nowhere to run to, no excuses to make, she could only sit there and listen as Dr Gaul bestowed whatever sick twist she had created upon her.
"How tantalizing to see all your shining young faces on this auspicious day... I am Doctor Volumnia Gaul, you're humble Head Gamemaker in charge of the war department, and all its affiliated concerns. I've broken free of my laboratory today to examine you. The leaders of the next generation. I won't be around forever after all." Winter was sure she was about to throw up at the sound of her giggle. "And now to that end, I am honored to introduce to you the creator of the Hunger Games themselves... Dean Casca Highbottom." Winter dropped her hands from Sejanus' and instead used them to shield her face as the sound of her father clearing his throat echoed around the hall. Shame was all she felt, shame in him, shame in herself.
"Select students, faculty, and of course, Dr. Gaul... I have summoned you all here today for the tenth annual Reaping Ceremony." Highbottom's voice was washy at best as he staggered his way through the middle of the crowd heading for the front, the dose of morphling he had taken already having an effect on him, still he continued, "In which we chose two children from each District to... Throw into the Capitol arena to fight to the death in the Hunger Games."
"Can't believe they still allow him to speak in public," Clemensia Dovecote whispered to Coriolanus who was sitting to her right. Of course he agreed, the Dean was far from fit to continue with his public speeches.
The Snow boy had always had a great distaste for the Dean which had been mutual, and stemmed from the man's hatred of his father, but nothing perplexed him more than the fact that this man, squashed-faced, stumpy limed and reliant on morphling could have a daughter as beautiful as Winter. She was everything he wasn't, at the age of just eighteen she proven herself to be a much stronger person than he was, she was firm in her beliefs and her opinions didn't change no matter who disagreed with her, something he had witnessed many times during their lessons. The same couldn't be said about her father who was as pliable as dough.
Coriolanus suspected Winter took after her mother, but he couldn't remember the woman much, he could only remember her red hair, the same she had passed onto her daughter.
Winter was one of the better-off people in the Capitol, it was easy to see with her perfectly tailored outfits that Tigris was always telling him about, how she smelt of luxurious body oils and lotions, with how her hair was always shiny and perfectly styled. Food hadn't been a problem for them either, while his family were living off watery cabbage stew that he was sure had stunted his growth Winter dined on fresh vegetables, berries and meats daily. The Highbottom's had always been a well-off family but never like they had been since the Games. It was dirty money, Winter knew it, but it kept her alive.
"And here sit... Our own twenty-four top prospects. All waiting for the results of hard stack of this prestigious institution, eager to learn who's won that Plinth Prize, no doubt." A pursed lipped smile covered his face as his eyes scanned the crowd when he settled before them, it fell when he spotted his daughter sitting front and center, her eyes downcast, avoiding his gaze mulling over words he had said. He cleared his throat, sniffed and looked away. "And a golden future... However, I am here to tell you that there has been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth. Because, the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the Games and simply aren't watching anymore, and if the Games are to continue at all there must be an audience." He laughed softly, not because he found amusement in it, but rather the opposite.
The Games were dying out, people weren't interested anymore, just when he could see a clear path ahead Dr. Gaul had closed the doors and locked them. It was absurd, outlandish that they had even lasted this long. Why couldn't they just let them die?
"So, Head Gamemaker, Dr. Gaul has stepped in to... incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flare. Starting with you... The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades, but by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games."
Highbottom's eyes found his daughter again through the mutters of disbelief that broke out, this time she was looking at him. A look that jarred him, and shook him to his very core. For a brief moment, all he could see in her wet eyes and pain-stricken face was the ghost of his late wife. Seething with resentment, consumed by guilt, drowning in disappointment. He watched as a tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another that she had done her best to wipe away discreetly.
He had tried to stop it, tried talking Gaul out of it knowing what involvement in the Games would do to the girl. Knowing what merely observing it had done to his wife. Gaul had refused him, she knew that the future of the Hunger Games lay in the hands of the next generation and Winter had proven that to her time and time again. That is why she had been chosen as one of the top twenty-four, not for her work, as good as it may have been, but as a chance to prove herself, to prove that she had what it takes to step up and take over.
"This is a brand new role," He continued as he swallowed, his feet taking him over to the side of the room his daughter sat on. "As the Reaping progresses live, I will allocate each District's tribute a Capitol mentor behind the scenes, one who must - just persuade them to perform for the cameras." Winter held the urge to laugh at her father's words. As if it wasn't bad enough to have children fight to the death, now they were expected to perform for views before they'd be killed. If anyone had heard it they didn't react, all bar Sejanus who reached over and took her hand in his again, giving it a squeeze.
"Obviously the best mentor will be the one whose tribute wins the Games," Felix spoke aloud with a smirk.
"What if I get a pathetic runt girl from one of the poor Districts like Eight of Twelve?" Arachne huffed, the annoyance in her voice as clear as a bell. "Then she's gonna die in two minutes like last year, and the year before." Winter had never wanted to hit her as badly as she did right now. These children were being forced to fight until the death for entertainment and she was complaining about her chances of winning.
It was people like her, people like her father, and Gaul that showed everything wrong with the Capitol. In that moment, Winter found herself wishing that the rebels had won, that they had killed them all, or had thrown them into the arena to fight. God knows they deserved it.
"You're role is to turn these children into spectacles, Miss. Crane... Not survivors. Victory in the Games is only one of our considerations. You're entire future rests on this last project..." He then snapped his fingers and added in his final note, Oh! And I must tell you that anyone caught cheating to give their tributes an unfair advantage... Will just have no future at all." The blaring of the Capitol anthem alerted everyone that the Reaping Ceremony was about to begin. Highbottom hurried forward and sat on the step between Winter and Sejanus' legs, his eyes on the screen as the Capitol Seal flashed over it.
Winter contemplated shoving her foot into his back, digging the heel of her boot in so deep that it drew blood. Instead, she pulled her hand from Sejanus' and leaned forward in her seat, so far down that she was bent in half until her mouth aligned with her father's ear. The man refused to turn to her, he could feel her body vibrate with anger or sobs, he wasn't sure which one, and neither were good. Her shaky breath hit his ear first making him flinch.
"I will never forgive you for this." She spat, her words instantly causing a dull ache in his chest. She pulled back up, and adjusted herself in her seat, forcing her eyes to look at the screen as the camera's cut to District One.
This was it, this was her downfall. She knew that Gaul must have been proud of herself. She had finally caught her like a fly in a spiders web, and try as she might, Winter could see no way out of this that wouldn't end in disaster. All she could think of was her mother, of how disappointed the woman would have been. It's not my fault, she repeated like a mantra internally, I don't want this. I didn't ask for this. I'm sorry.
The man cleared his throat and peered down to the cards he held in his shaky hands. "District One, boy, goes to... Livia Cardew," The girls pointed little face broke into a grin and she punched the air in victory.
"Yes!" She shouted in her shrill voice over the applause.
"Girl goes to Palmyra Monty." More applause broke out. "District Two, boy,...goes to Sejanus Plinth-" Winters's head rocketed over to her friend and wanted nothing more than to hug him due to the look of distress on his face. It was a sick joke, it had to have been. Assigning him a tribute from the District he was from, the chances of them knowing each other were high and by the look on his face, Winter realized that he must have.
"You got the pick of the litter," Coriolanus muttered as leaned over.
"You forget. I'm part of that litter." Sejanus replied hoarsely. By now the Dean had moved on to District Three. Coriolanus let the boy's words sink in. Ten years in the Capitol and the privileged life it provided had been wasted on Sejanus. He still thought of himself as a District Citizen. "I'm sure my father requested it. He's always trying to get my mind right." Winter let out a sigh and placed a hand on his knee giving it a squeeze, Sejanus' hand coming to rest on top of it. She knew it was hard enough being forced into this mess when you stood against it, but to be assigned to mentor an old friend had to have been the icing on top.
The sight of them made Coriolanus sick to his stomach, Sejanus had made his view on the Capitol and it's people clear, he still believed himself to be from Two. Winter was practically royalty at this point, her father had created the Hunger Games, had given her every opportunity to thrive, and here she was actively choosing to slum it with a poor, sad, pathetic boy.
"Four, boy, Clemensia Dovecote-" The girl on the other side of Coriolanus gave his arm an excited squeeze pulling his attention back to the front, watching as she instantly began taking notes in her notepad. Four was good. Four produced fishermen, they had to be strong for that. "Girl, Festus Creed." Winter waited with bated breath as each District passed and she was yet to catch a glimpse of the poor soul she would have to aid in their death sentence. He went all the way down until only Districts Eleven and Twelve were left and neither Winter nor Coriolanus' names had been called.
"District Eleven, boy, goes to Winter Highbottom." Coriolanus looked down at Winter to see her reaction to the news, he had been expecting to be met with a proud smile or a look of relief at least but instead, her face remained void of all emotions, her eyes hard and glued to her father before they flicked up to finally look at her tribute.
The name 'Reaper' was flashed under a video of him as he shrugged out of the Peacekeeper's hold. He was strong looking, handsome, and pissed that he was being forced into these Games. Winter didn't blame him, she was pissed, too. It was hard to gauge him fully after only a five-second clip but it seemed to be enough for Coriolanus who grew bitter that he wasn't his. Of course, they had given the strongest tribute to the daughter of the man who had created this whole thing. It was nepotism at its finest.
"Girl," The Dean continued. "Felix Ravinstill." The small girl that appeared on the other screen, her name was Dill. Winter's heart broke at the sight of her. She couldn't have been any older than thirteen, fourteen at a push, and she looked gravely ill, coughing and spluttering as she was forced to take her place. She glanced over her shoulder to Felix whose face was washed with disappointment at the sight of his ill-stricken tribute. "Twelve, boy... Lysistrata Vickers." Winter turned back to the front as she saw the boy appear on screen. "Oh, you'll be happy about this one," The man muttered to the blonde boy on the other side of his daughter as he got to his feet and made his way back to the front. "And last but least, the runt girl from District Twelve girl... she belongs to Coriolanus Snow..."
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
A/N:
and so it begins...
thank you to anyone who's reading this, it means the world! i hope you're all prepared for some long chapters, cause, boy, do i get carried away...
can't wait to share more with you soon!
-daisy<3
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*