"ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢʀʏ ᴍᴀɴ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɢʀʏ ᴏɴᴇ."
Clio rifles through the stacks of supplies inside the metal walls of the cornucopia in search of foodstuffs and fresh water. As she rummages through the items they've been provided with, the others sit at the front of the structure to watch the water idly, and she notices the lack of items that they are so used to having access to in their respective games and their training. There is no food, no canteens of cold freshwater, no matches to help cook food or provide warmth, no sleeping bags or rope; just piles upon piles of shiny, metal weapons.
"There's nothing in here!" She calls out to the others. "No fucking food and not even a drop of water."
The three of them push themselves to a stand, joining her inside to sort through the mountain of weapons. Each of them deconstructs a stack each, putting aside any of the weapons they could have a use for while carelessly throwing the useless items into a corner inside their shelter.
"Maybe someone got to the food before us?" Cashmere shrugs as she goes to sit on the rocks outside again.
"They couldn't have. The only people who got even close enough to the front were Finnick and Everdeen and besides they'd have put more than one bag in here if there was any at all." Cato answers her before he rests his sword against the wall of the cornucopia and takes a running start into the salt water so that he can wash the blood from his body.
"Speaking of the girl on fire. You were next to her, how didn't you catch her?" Gloss asks, venom dripping from his voice.
"She's a slimy little weasel, man." Cato answers. He dunks himself under the water again, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the ends to remove the red that tints the golden strands.
"You came up next to her? And you didn't kill her?"
"She's your kill, angel. I wasn't going to take that from you and it's fine, we'll get her tomorrow." He drops his shoulders dismissively before pulling himself from the water and laying flat on his back on one of the spokes. Gloss, still annoyed if his pursed lips are any indication, spreads out the fifteen available knives into three piles of five. He passes five to his sister, keeps five for himself and gestures that the final five are for Clio; who slides two over to Cato - knowing that although he would be less likely to reach for that style of blade it wouldn't hurt him to have backup incase he is, by some miracle, cornered without his sword.
"What about Romeo and Juliet?" Cato asks his girlfriend.
"Juliet's very dead. I made sure of that." Clio laughs, ignoring the confused glances being directed her way by her allies. "Romeo ran but I did promise her we'd kill him too."
"Romeo and Juliet?" Gloss questions with a furrowed brow.
"The stupid couple from Ten. Almost as pathetic as the fire girl and her bread man."
"We have to change our plan." Cashmere tells them after a beat of silence. "If Finnick's really run off with the Capitol's favourite couple then-"
"Second favourite couple."
"Yeah. If he's gone into the jungle with the Capitol's second favourite couple then he'll have told them all about our plans by now."
"Fuck!" Clio shouts, grabbing the largest of her knives and finding the nearest body, now discarded on the edge of the island. The male morphling. In a rage, she kneels over the top of the man, letting out an angry screech and digging her knife into the skin above his eyelids. Peeling back the skin she is met with the lifeless eyes of the man which she quickly plunges her knife into one and carves the other out with the tip of the blade severing the nerves and connective tissue in the sensory organ. She pulls the slimy ball from the socket and whacks it harshly in the direction of the jungle as if she was back playing rounders in the Academy courtyard as a child. She then hooks the blade underneath his neck, pushing through until the knife re-surfaces through his cupid's bow; the crushing sound of his upper jawbone like music to her ears. When she feels a presence next to her, she doesn't have to look up to realise it's Cato when the blade of his sword pierces the man's windpipe so forcefully that the sound of the tip hitting the rocks echoes throughout the arena. He brings his sword out and pushes it back in as her knife finds his chest, strategically managing to avoid the pre-existing gash. The sounds of the two blades ripping open wetsuit and flesh alike is all the four careers can hear as they take turns plunging their weapons into his body before the first cannon sounds, signalling for them to retreat from the morphling's already limp form and sit beside their allies to count the cannons.
None of them move or speak as the cannon blasts continue - Cashmere ticks them off with her fingers but doesn't count aloud, not saying anything until the final boom fades away and the arena falls practically silent. Only the noises of their breathing and the jungle wildlife mingle with the faint humming of a hovercraft that flies overhead.
"Eight." Clio shrugs casually while she drops to the floor and lies back in the sunlight. "At least that's what I counted."
"Mine too." Gloss lets out a sigh as he splashes water over his face before dipping his weapons into the seawater.
The four of them lie beside each other as they debate trying to catch some kind of exotic fish or venturing into the jungle in search of drinking water before a comfortable silence falls over them as the sun begins to set on the arena, tinting the water orange with the reflection.
"God it's hot." Cato groans as he breaks off a small piece from the rocky island and splits it into several pieces that he skims across the water that crashes into the spokes.
"Might be too hot." Gloss laughs as he reaches to grab from Cato's pile of rocks and joins him in throwing them into the water; leading to the two of them engaging in a friendly competition of who can throw the stones the furthest. Clio and Cashmere watch in amusement as they joke around with each other; both acutely aware that their friendship is doomed.
"What the fuck was that?" They ask in unison when a loud spark of electricity comes from deep inside the thick jungle and they await the sound of a cannon. Nothing comes, even when a shrill scream punctuates the air after the zap. The claws then begin to scoop up the bodies that lay around them on their little island, and the sound of one of the claws scraping against the metal tail of the cornucopia grates on them for a second and makes them question their decision to stay near the structure.
"If I'm destined to die in this hellscape then I'll be damned if I don't at least swim in it." Clio announces once the last claw has collected the final body floating beside one of the podiums. She jumps to her feet and kicks off the socks and black boots that confine them, placing them beside the cornucopia. Breaking into a run, she dives into the water and although warm, it provides a nice reprieve from the warm, steamy humidity. Once she breaks the surface, she moves her hands to her hair, untying the elastic bobbles and separating the strands with her fingers so she can wash away all the blood that has dried to the ends. Leaning backwards, she spreads her body out into a star-fish position so she can float as she watches the oranges and pinks of the sunset.
"When I go, I just hope it's quick. I hope it's beautiful." Gloss mutters, mostly to himself but the tension seems to double as his allies turn their attention to him.
"I'd prefer if you didn't go at all." Cashmere replies, eyes swirling with hurt and terror as she pushes away her brother's attempts to comfort her. "Please don't say stuff like that, even if you're joking."
"I'm not joking, Cash. Three of us are going to have to die for there to be a winner, and I'd rather it be me than you."
Clio flips onto her front when his words fill her ears, suddenly remembering Enobaria's warning that she can't truly trust either of her allies from One. Gloss is playing the exact same game as she is; fully prepared to remove himself from the equation for his loved one to leave alive. She swims the few strides back to the island, reaching over the edge and securing the knife holster around her hips and thigh and sheathing her three knives inside. They watch as she swims backwards further into the water, not taking her eyes off the siblings as Cato lifts himself to his feet and picks up his sword.
"Woah, man I'm not going to kill you yet. Not with over half of them still out there." Gloss laughs as he pushes his own knives away from him and in the direction of the cornucopia while he dangles his legs over the edge of the island.
Cato walks down the spoke nearest to Clio, steps slowing as he approaches the water's edge. With a decisive nod, he lets the heavy sword fall onto the rocks. A temporary truce. The wind rushes past him as he launches himself into the open air, throwing his legs over his head in messy rotation before he hits the water with a loud splash that erupts in every direction.
"Where do you learn to do that?" Clio laughs, shaking her head at him when he surfaces.
"Cool right?"
"I've seen better." She teases as she scoops up a handful of water and sends it flying towards his face.
"Oh that's it." Cato gasps in fake shock, chopping at the waves to send sprays of water splashing into her as she rubs her eyes. "You're on."
Cato rushes towards her, submerging his body underwater and grabbing at her ankle the second he was in reach. Clio lets out a shriek as she goes under, kicking her legs to try and avoid him grabbing them again before he relents. Coming up and spluttering saltwater, she tries to catch her breath, swimming closer to a spoke to rest against, whilst he covers his eyes with his hands and blinks quickly to try and get rid of the stinging sensation. After a few seconds rest she is intent on getting her revenge, quickly swimming over and splashing more water into his space. He recovers quicker than she expected, however, and chases her towards where his sword rests on the rocky strip. Their laughter rings out throughout the dome, something which, if Clio had to guess, probably unnerves some of the other tributes who hide out in the forest. They playfully taunt each other as they chase, seemingly forgetting their surroundings; with one surging ahead in a burst of energy only to be overtaken by the other closer to the spoke and resulting in a change of direction to avoid getting caught. Finally, they begin to tire out, resting their backs against the spoke as they look at the darkening sky and quickly recall their environment. Their eyes flit quickly to Cashmere and Gloss who still sit at the edge of the island, watching the two of them with amusement in their eyes before averting their gaze to the sky. Distracted by the few stars beginning to appear above them, a smile spreads across Clio's face before she breaks into a laugh when Cato grabs her and begins to make the swim over to the other side of the segment with her wrapped around his front. With her head constantly being dunked underneath the surface, she wraps her arms around his neck and pretends to choke him.
"If you're trying to get me to stop, it won't work." He grins, "I kind of like it when you do that."
"Shut up. You have such a dirty mind." She says as she releases one of her arms to playfully punch him on his shoulder. She feels him grip the back of her thighs, not even able to finish her exclamation before she is thrown into the water ahead of her; swallowing mouthfuls of the salty water.
Her hand rises above the surface before the rest of her body does and the three of them at the island laugh as her middle finger emerges from the water, followed by her body shooting upwards. "I'm going to fucking get you for that."
She bursts out laughing and lets Cato carry her to the line of rocks and they pull themselves up to sit on top of it, catching their breath while their hair and skin begins to dry almost instantly with the high humidity in the arena. As she goes to lie back, her hand goes to her thigh, noticing that two of her three knives had slipped out of the holster whilst they were in the water. Fucking brilliant, she thinks, I have a little fun in my last few days and I've lost my fucking weapons. But she knows that drawing attention to her mistake would be stupid, so she keeps silent and remains seated upright. Feeling Cato wrap his arm around her and pull her into his wet, toned torso, she squints her eyes at him as he cups her face in his hand and swipes at the water running from her forehead before leaning in towards her and placing a kiss to her lips.
"What are we going to do about them?" She asks him, against his lips.
"Who do you mean?" He questions her back and kisses her again.
"Our friends." She wipes a drop of water that falls from his hair onto the tip of his nose. "When are we going to kill the wonder siblings off?"
"It's your call." He says, continuing when she raises an eyebrow at him. "You decide and I'll do whatever you say."
"Really?" She laughs. "That was easy."
"Shut up." He mirrors her words from earlier. His arm moves from its resting position on her hip, gliding to the small of her back where he gives a sharp push, sending her crashing into the water again whilst he laughs.
"Cato!" She shouts, "I swear-"
Her sentence is interrupted by the high-pitched chimes of four silver pods finally floating their way down to their camp. Cashmere is the first to reach them, jumping up to collect each one, and it's her who separates them. Two parcels labelled 'Two', and two parcels labelled 'One.' Climbing out of the water, she joins Cato and her two other allies as they grab their weapons and move their camp underneath the metal structure.
'Stop fucking about in the water. We do not have the energy to mentor your single shared brain cell if this is how you're going to use it.'
"Oh that's real nice, Enobaria!" Clio laughs, as she looks up towards the sky as if talking directly to her mentors - and whoever else was listening. As they open the parcels, the first contains two metal flasks filled to the brim with ice cold water, complete with carabiner clips that can be fastened to their holsters, whilst the other contains an assortment of high protein foods. Trail mix, hard-boiled eggs, varieties of dried meat and fish jerky, granola and oat bars alongside and fruit. Sat in a diamond shape inside the Cornucopia, they chat amongst themselves as they swig large gulps from their flasks and eat half of their allocated package of food.
"What do you think you'd be doing if we weren't in here?" Gloss asks them curiously, finishing off their his of beef jerky.
"Probably watching them the same way we did last year, I guess?" Cato shrugs, "and likely shouting at our tributes for not being able to figure out the arena."
"And have you? Figured it out?"
"There's twelve of those little slices so it has to do with the number of Districts." Cato suggests.
"Well, obviously, but what do you think is in the jungle?" Cashmere questions.
"I think it's gotta be separated like the water is." He says as he rips one of the bread rolls in half and passes the half in his right hand to Clio. "Each slice of the jungle has got to have something from each of the Districts in it, you know, to make us want to go in."
"Interesting." Gloss hums, "Do you think we should go hunting tonight?"
"Nah, we should just stay here for the night. No one's going to target the four of us together, and we don't even know who's out there yet." Clio replies, resting her head on Cato's shoulder.
"We can figure out a plan tomorrow then." Cashmere suggests when she sees her brother nod out of the corner of her eye, before directing their conversation back to their lives. "If the Games didn't exist then I think I'd have liked to work in social welfare."
Three pairs of eyes turn to the blonde woman, as she fiddles with the shell of the nut she just cracked upon and continues speaking in a whisper, "Before we enrolled in the Academy, I used to go to preschool with these girls who were from the poorest families in the District and I would wish I could do something to help them. I was only five of course, but when I heard about what happened to them as we grew up, the same thing that happened to me after I won, I would've loved to be able to help. To make a difference to all the mistreated little girls in Panem."
The genuine smile on her face drops once her admission passes her lips as her features transform into a cold expression, nostrils flaring in irritation and eyes glazing over slightly. "They don't warn you about the things people say to you, do to you, when they think you're pretty and quite frankly I've had enough of it. I'm more than my face. More than my body. I never had a choice, once Gloss won I always knew I would have to live up to that. I should have been allowed autonomy."
Her volume increases as she looks up at the sky, directly into the several cameras that sit in the arena's dome shaped covering. "Every little girl should be given a choice!"
"Cash-" Gloss tries to calm his sister down, if only to remove the flaming red target she's just stapled to her back.
"She's right." Clio nods as she threads her fingers through Cato's, an unspoken understanding between them.
"You too?" Cashmere asks her quietly, "I always thought that you Twos were spared from all that stuff."
"Unfortunately not," Clio shakes her head as silence falls over the group.
"I'd have liked to work with the medics. Maybe not as part of the healing teams because I haven't got the smarts to be trained in that side of things but I think that I'd have made a good first responder. I've seen enough blood and death. Nothing would shock me anymore..." Gloss fills the silence. "What about you two?"
"I've never even thought about it before." Cato admits. "Growing up in Two, anything and everything is about the Games. It's all we've ever known, all we've got really. I've been wielding a sword since I was eight, I mean, all we did was train."
"The plan was always to win and then return back to the Academy to train the other kids. I had to teach myself how to read properly, so I don't think I'd be very useful without the Games." Clio laughs, easily waving off her self-depreciation. "I wasn't even a very good mentor so who knows."
"That's it?" Gloss asks in disbelief. "You've never thought of anything beyond the Games?"
"District Two is practically built around the Games. It's not really like we had any other choice. You either die in the arena or become a victor, and if you're not selected you just become a peacekeeper or stonemason." Cato scoffs.
"I would've been a mum." Clio says with a sigh. "We would've had kids, two little girls and a boy. Three mini Catos because there's no way that any of my genes would've won out when his entire family looks as if they could be descendants of the Vikings."
"Nope. I still believe that our oldest girl would have looked exactly like you, with perfect brown waves and warm hazel eyes." Cato chimes in, rubbing his thumb in small circles along the back of her hand when their allies laugh at their playful bickering. "They'd have been the strongest kids you'd ever meet."
"I guess we'll never know," Clio offers with a sad, wistful smile. "But it's probably for the best since they'd have only ended up like us. Dark and twisted and slightly deranged, so maybe they've done us all a favour. Maybe not having them is the best way to protect them from all the shit we were subjected to."
"Maybe." Cashmere hums in agreement. "None of us really want to go home alone do we?"
Their silence is enough of an answer. They're prepared to give the Capitol the show they want, but they know they don't want it to have to come down to the four of them, or even worse, in Clio's opinion, the two of them. She knows she isn't prepared to kill Cato, and he isn't prepared to kill her; just like how Cashmere and Gloss aren't prepared to kill each other either.
Cashmere and Gloss don't want to return to District One without each other. Without the sibling who they expected to be by their side, watching as they grew up. Each existing in separate lives, yet so intertwined by their bond. They refuse to go home to see the dejection in their parents' eyes at their loss. They refuse to fight to return to a place where the only touch they receive is the sleazy hand of a paying customer, in something they do not wish to be a part of. They are not coming out without each other.
Clio doesn't want to return to District Two without Cato. Without the boy she has loved since she was fourteen, the boy who she expected to spend the rest of her life with, the boy who was her support system throughout the tumultuous two years following her games. She refuses to go home to a house that would feel empty without him in it, without the pile of crumpled clothing she has to move every evening. She refuses to go home, only to see what was his house next to hers. She refuses to go home to have to actually use the stepstool in her kitchen, given that he wouldn't be there to reach the glasses in the top cabinet. She is not coming out with him.
Cato doesn't want to return to District Two without Clio. Without the girl whose first words to him were sarcastic and have continued to be his damnation ever since. He refuses to go home to a world where he is condemned to live a life where no one remembers his name, instead remembering him only as the winner of the quarter quell. He is not willing to return back to a nation where his only memorable trait would be killing the girl he loves. He refuses to go home to be met with the sight of her old house next door. He refuses to go home to an empty house. He refuses to let the smell of cinnamon fade from the kitchen but he'd never be able to stand the smell of it without her. He is not coming out without her.
And yet, as aware as they all are in this realisation that they don't particularly want to live, they aren't aware that the others sitting around them are, have all come to the same agreement; keep their partner alive at all costs, even if it means forcing a blade through your own heart with hesitation.
Before the silence gets too heavy to bear, Clio takes a large gulp out of her flask before pulling herself to her feet. "I think we should start to get some sleep. If we're going to start hunting people down tomorrow then we need to be at least a little rested."
"You go," Cato suggests, "I'll stay up to keep watch."
"Me too," Gloss agrees, cutting off his sister's protests before they even begin. "Just try and sleep, Cash. I'll be fine."
"Wake us up when the anthem starts and we can switch after we know who our next target is."
──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────
𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎!
RIGHT EDITING THIS TO SAY THAT LEVEN RAMBIN POSTED ME IN HER STORY AHHH IM ON GLIM GLAMS STORY. I COULD SOB. HAPPY HALLOWEEN YALL
Enobaria watching them in the mentor room like:
Welp happy halloween and welcome to the alliance that is doomed to fail rip.
Hope you've had a good day and are staying safe with whatever you're up to. I attended comic con with some friends as some of my favourite tributes (Clove and Johanna) this weekend so if you would like to see them, but no pressure if not of course, then head on over to my instagram @thechaoticasgardian! :)