"ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴇᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴ; ɪᴛ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ."
By mid-morning on July 11th, they lie there, Clio's head resting on Cato's chest as they try to rouse themselves awake and wait for their mentors and stylists to come separate them for their journey to the arena in separate hovercrafts. The silence is quickly broken as Festus knocks twice on the solid black door before pushing the door open and calling Juno from her place across the hall where she raps lightly at the door of Clio's room. Juno gasps at the state of her tribute; naked save for the thin bed sheet wrapped held up to her chest, long hair tangled in a knotty mess behind her and remnants of last night's makeup smeared on the white pillow and around her eyes.
"Clio!" Juno exclaims as the girl detaches herself from Cato and sits up, still clutching the bedsheet tightly. "Your neck."
Clio laughs to herself, she hadn't dared pull herself from bed yet this morning, not wanting to burst the dazed bubble the two of them had been content with since their eyes flutter open. Dragging herself from Cato's arms to look in a mirror was not at the top of her list of priority but from the exasperated tone of her stylist she assumes there must be a bruise or two covering the skin. Her hand absentmindedly rubs over the skin of her neck while Juno comes to stand at her side of the bed. "What? It's not like anything we do is a secret."
"I can't send you in there with a handprint around your neck Clio!" Juno tuts as she pulls one of Cato's shirts over Clio's head as a barrier before dragging her from the bed by her arm and forcing her to put on a fresh set of her training clothes for the last time while she can hear Festus ordering Cato do the same.
The second she's fully clothed and not a second later, Juno drags her to the launchpoint, refusing to give her the opportunity to speak to Cato again, and dismissing her questions about when she could say her goodbyes to Brutus; telling her that he has been instructed to direct the final moments of his attention to his mentee. Waiting for the hovercraft in the weather, which is surprisingly cold for July, Clio shivers and wraps her arms around herself as she tries to rub some warmth back into her skin. It's not easy with all the wind that the hovercraft turbines are kicking up and the way it moves painstakingly slowly up from the first to the second floor. She waits on the balcony. Juno is there too but it's as if she doesn't know what to say and so the two of them wait in silence for the hovercraft to move. She's distracted from her musing by Enobaria placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing in briefly. Clio leans into it, savouring her last moments with her mentor. Her friend. One of her parental figures. For pretty soon, most of the people that touch her are going to be people who are wanting or trying to kill her in the most painful way possible and she'll need some positive memories to counterbalance that. "Remember what we talked about."
"I know." Clio sighs, trying not to let her irritation leak through into her words. This will likely be the last time she ever talks to Enobaria, given that she doubts she'll be allowed into the hovercraft with her, and she doesn't want to argue with her; even if she knows what she's doing. "Find Cato and the wonder siblings so that we can get the two frauds in the bloodbath. But the eleven makes me a target so watch my back."
"Exactly." Enobaria says but the usual smugness that lives in her voice whenever someone repeats her words back to her isn't present. She looks anxious, as she peers around the squared-off railings of the balcony to check when she should be expecting the vehicle. Checking how much time she has. Her fists are clenched tightly and Clio can see small droplets of blood on her palm when she uncurls them; an indication of how hard she must have dug her nails into her palms to break the skin's surface. "We can't act on your plan if you get yourself killed in the first five minutes."
"You should really have more faith in me." Clio grins, throwing her head back in laughter at the exasperated sigh Enobaria lets out. "I'm not going to die in the first five minutes. Try the last five, so be a good mentor and get me some sponsors, yeah?"
Enobaria rolls her eyes. "Personally, I wouldn't antagonise the woman in charge of your sponsorships. You are something else Clio."
"Oh c'mon. You know you love me."
"Unfortunately, I do. So do not annoy whoever's on that hovercraft and do not get yourself killed in some embarrassing way or I'll resurrect you just to kill you myself."
"Gotcha." Clio laughs before the ladder begins to descend from the hovercraft and a Peacekeeper clears their throat from their position at the entrance of the vehicle, and signalling to another that has suddenly appeared behind her. Quickly, she leans forward to pull her mentor into a hug before the older woman has time to complain. "Thank you, Enobaria. For everything."
She hears Enobaria take a deep breath before pulling away and holding the girl at arm's length to give her one final appraisal and lead her towards the awaiting ladder. "Don't thank me. I meant what I said two years ago, I've never been prouder of anyone so if you do decide to go through with your plan then don't you dare forget that."
With those parting words, Clio and Juno are ushered onto the hovercraft by their peacekeeper escorts. Juno is immediately whisked away into another room whilst Clio is directed into the metal seat with the number two inscribed into the backrest.
"Nice bruise." Gloss laughs from the seat beside her. "What is that, a handprint?"
Despite them being alone for now, they don't talk much as the hovercraft lifts to the other floors, stopping for a few minutes to let each of the tributes on. Beetee looks somewhat self-assured as he sits beside Clio. Mags walks slowly up the few steps, slapping away the assistance offered to her from her escort. The man from Five and the female morphling keep their heads down, watching their feet while they walk. Blight has a scowl on his face as he is shoved by the peacekeeper into his chair; eyes flashing with anger when they catch Clio's and she lets a smirk spread over her features, bringing her hand to her neck to gesture the slitting of his throat. Cecelia is almost inconsolable as she enters the hovercraft, tears coating her cheeks as Blight begins to comfort her, reaching over to the chair beside him to run his thumb over the woman's hand until he is reprimanded to return his hands to his own chair by the escort. The man from Nine scurries onboard quickly, whilst the woman from Ten takes her time, seemingly stalling by looking out over the view of the Capitol. Clio notices that she looks pinched, as if she's about to vomit onto the floor of the vehicle so she quickly moves her feet backwards, curling them into the bottom of the metal. Chaff sits opposite her when he boards, face void of an emotion as he nods at Beetee, and accidentally reminds Clio of their plan. Finally, Katniss is strapped into the metal chair at the end of the row and her eyes blow wide when she looks forward to be met with glares directed at her from both Clio and Gloss opposite her. Clio watches her eyes drift to her neck. "What is it fire girl? Never seen a bruise before?"
Katniss averts her eyes to the window visible at the rear of the hovercraft, and mindful of Enobaria's warning, Clio decides to do the same; ignoring the nagging, impulsive thought to just kill her now, save everyone the trouble. The hovercraft is silent as each tribute stares out of the window, trying to get any clues of where they are being taken before the casements darken. They seem to be travelling south-east, over the mountain range the Capitol is set within before the terrain flattens out into yellow-brown earth that Clio is certain is the northernmost point of District Two before the windows darken. Many of the tributes are distant once their views of the scenery are obstructed, withdrawn as they stare at the black-windows as if they can still see the landscape beneath them. There's not really anything for them to discuss anywhere, most of the alliances are spread out, each at the furthest point of the hovercraft.
She draws her eyes from the window, looking at the sullen, overwhelmed faces of the others. This journey seems longer than the one that transported her to her arena two years ago, and she's about to vocalise her observations to Gloss when a peacekeeper blocks her vision. "Present your forearm."
Clio lifts her arm in front of her, stretching her right forearm and looking up at the peacekeeper who holds the cannula needle.
"Your left."
Biting back the remark that bubbles on her tongue, Clio reluctantly obliges with their request and presents her left forearm as the peacekeeper steps forward and grabs her arm tightly in his gloved hand. He doesn't wait for acknowledgement, simply inserting the long needle underneath the flesh of her forearm as Clio stifles her hiss by bringing her teeth down lightly on her tongue and watches a droplet of blood trickle from her arm. She keeps as still as possible, ignoring the sharp pain emitting down her arm before the needle is pulled out, causing her to bring her eyes down to the visible bump and trace her finger over the raised marking; skin red and raw underneath as she bends her arm. She observes the others flinch and hiss at the tracker, laughing under her breath when tears leak from some of their eyes.
Normally, Clio isn't too fussed by murder, given that she's a career tribute who surrounds herself with other victors, all of whom have a substantial kill count. But she'd prefer it not to happen to herself or any of the people that she cares about, and with this Quarter Quell feeling realer by the second, she knows that it's either one or the other. She's been thinking about it, as the training days have passed, watching Cashmere and Gloss and Finnick and Johanna. Watching and thinking about the easiest ways to take them out. Gloss is arrogant and wastes time with fancy moves and little flourishes that he doesn't need. Cashmere, although a winner in her own right, is far too dependent on Gloss, and will likely let her guard down when he's involved in an altercation. Exactly the same as the District One tributes in her games, and it becomes all too obvious who their mentors were; though she expects that the siblings probably think the same of her and Cato. Finnick, like Cashmere, has an obvious weakness in the form of another tribute whilst Johanna acts confident to mask all her negative emotions. Katniss and Peeta are attached at the hip so one's demise will lead to the other's. She's watched them all; studied them all. She knows how to kill them. She just needs to find the perfect time.
The hovercraft jerks as it lands, and the tributes are quickly ushered off the vehicle in reverse order into a series of tunnels, moved quickly through the twists and turns and into a cold, vacant room. The only items she can see are the two chairs, one empty and the other draped into what she assumes in her clothing for the games, and the small table topped with a small assortment of pastries. Her peacekeeper escort watches as the woman walks towards the table filled with food. The girl isn't stupid, she knows she shouldn't go into the arena on an empty stomach so she reaches for a danish pastry; the sweet strawberry filling settling her stomach, before turning her attention to the cinnamon rolls. Result, she says to herself at the sight of her favourite food. If there's one thing the Capitol does well it's the cinnamon rolls and she'll be damned if she doesn't eat as many as she can before she enters the arena; and besides she'll need all the energy she can get for the excitement of the bloodbath and the probable lack of food she'll encounter over the next few days. She paces the room as she eats, gulping down the contents of the three water bottles on the table before a door swings open, the peacekeepers remaining stationary in their positions as Juno barges pass them into the room to stand beside the small girl.
"I have just the thing to cover up that bruise." Her stylist says, coming closer to Clio and bringing some kind of cold, damn sponge towards her neck.
"Can we just leave it?" Clio asks.
"I shouldn't." Juno replies. "It makes you look less desirable and that could harm your chances of getting sponsors." When Clio raises an eyebrow, angry at the notion of being made into some desirable doll for the Capitol citizens again, Juno concedes. "Oh, why the hell not."
Juno tuts at the condition of Clio's hair, her hands brushing through the long, knotted strands and pulling them back tightly into a ponytail so she can tie several elastic bobbles at regular intervals before lightly pulling the strands apart to create a bubble braid. The hiss of the can of hairspray silences Clio; the girl refraining from airing her sarcastic remark due to her wish to not inhale the mist around her. Juno slicks the front of her hair back with some styling gel before she moves over to the chair which holds her clothing and clicks her fingers to get Clio's attention.
She looks at Juno who is now standing in front of her, holding a hanger from which her arena outfit falls. It's a wetsuit, she notes, the material having both long sleeves and going all the way down to the ankles. As Juno helps Clio into the outfit she realises how tight the wetsuit is when it clings to her body. The black, white and grey material zips up at the back, with black sleeves that stretch to her wrists. She assumes, quickly, that there must be some form of water in the arena, and with how breathable the wetsuit seems, she figures that the arena will likely be hot too. Thank god we were pushed in that river the summer of the 70th games, she thinks before she realises that she's actually thanking Luna Crawford for something. Well there's a first time for everything.
She doesn't dwell too long on that thought, not wanting to be distracted thinking about the lucky girl from Four. She pulls on the black boots before moving her feet around to wear them in as much as she can before she steps into the arena.
"Well here we are," Juno says, one hand resting on Clio's shoulder while the other gestures towards the outfit, "Just like last time, I want to stress that this didn't come from any of my designs."
Clio laughs then, "I know it wasn't," she says "It would've been much more colourful if it was."
Her stylist agrees with that at least, before she pauses to look Clio up and down. "I have one more thing for you."
The young woman, dressed in various shades of purple and gold as usual, reaches into her right pocket and pulls out Clio's necklace. Clio's eyes flicker for a split second at the sight of her token, glossing over for a few seconds before any tears are quickly blinked away.
"You remembered." Clio breathes out shakily, her voice betraying her usual aura of confidence, as Juno gently clasps the thin chain at the back of her neck and secures the lightweight gold-toned four-leaf clover charm to rest between her collarbones.
"I couldn't forget that, Clio.' She replies, "I made some reinforcements to the clasp to make sure it wouldn't break off in the water I suspect you'll be in. But all the faith, hope, love, and luck remain"
"Thank you." Clio says sincerely, "But look, when I die," her voices falters a bit as she swallows harshly, "can you make sure my necklace makes it way to Aeliana"
"Aeliana?"
"Cato's little sister" she explains, "She's always trying to borrow it so I figured she should be the one to have it."
Juno nods. "I will," she agrees as she carefully pins back a strand of dark hair that has come loose from Clio's ponytail, "But Clio, you're not going to die, you're the strongest young lady I know."
Clio's mouth turns up into a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, "I'm getting Cato back home" she says, "that means I need to die in there."
Her stylist shakes her head slightly at that, "I understand you want him to return home, but my dear your family will also-" She cuts herself short at this, regret clouding her features as she speaks again. "Oh my darling, I am so sorry, I didn't even think."
"It's okay." Clio whispers, "I've come to terms with it now." She hasn't. What a fucking lie, she thinks. Although she's not terrified as she presumes some of the other tributes are, she can feel a little fear creeping up her bones when she remembers the kind of people she's up against this time round. But she's more frightened of seeing Cato die and then being left alone in the world when she comes out. He's it for her, the person she expected to live her life with, to end her life with. She'll do anything to see him live. Anything.
"Darling, please don't give up already." Juno replies, her voice intentionally soft by now. She's not used to the district two tributes being so solemn before they enter, but she supposes everything is different when the stakes have been raised.
"This isn't me giving up." Clio almost barks, "I'm going to kill as many people as I can in there, including Katniss before I off myself for Cato's win." She pauses as she sees something in Juno's gaze crumble before she continues, "It's simple, he has a family to come home to, yes he'll lose me but he'll get over it soon enough. Whereas I have no one. If I win, I'm all alone."
Juno sniffles then, apologising profusely for their unfortunate circumstance and Clio lifts her chin and wills herself not to react because she doesn't want that to enter the arena distracted. Before being asked, Clio positions herself on the giant metal plate surrounded by a glass cylinder which encases her body.
Clio looks straight ahead, seeing Juno's mouth moving as she struggles to read her lips; just barely making out 'good luck' before the tube begins to move her skyward - into the arena.
──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────
𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎!
Enobaria and Juno sending Clio off on the hovercraft like:
I'm literally in Disneyland rn so I didn't have time to proofread this so if there's any errors please let me know and I can fix them when I get home :)
I would say that the real good shit (aka the violence) starts next chapter but it doesn't it's the one after my apologies, but next weeks is a long one, like 13k so I hope it doesn't break wattpad.