Opal reaches out her hands to assist Raven and Ronan while dismounting the chariot, and then gives them both a reassuring pat on the back. "You did excellent, you'll have sponsors lined up on the block," she says, though not as enthusiastically as Oakley would have. "Let's head to the tribute center." Opal and her tributes, along with the other mentors and their partners were heading to the numerous elevators that led upstairs to the fancy living quarters for the tributes. Some of the mentors are getting separated from their tributes because of the rush, and one of those mentors is Finnick Odair.
"Hello you lot," he greets, holding the elevator door open so he can get in. Raven is still upset with his cheeky words, thinking they are only meant to distract her. "Hello Opal. Raven," he greets as well. Ronan shrinks a little in the corner, feeling forgotten, to which Raven responds by squeezing his hand once again, letting him know she sees him. Finnick sees this and his face drops.
How stupid could they be to get together before the games? He thinks, but he chooses not to comment. He hopes for both their sakes, it doesn't turn into anything serious before the games, where one of them is bound to die. The elevator dings at the 4th floor, and Finnick waves to all of them playfully and exiting. Opal's eyes are squinted in suspicion, as she quickly glances between Raven and Finnick. "I'll meet you all in a minute. Get off on the 6th floor," she informs. Finnick stands with his hands behind his back as the twenty-three year old follows him out, with a deadly look in her eyes. Finnick gulps, feeling intimidated because of Opal's nature. The two are at eye level in height, which doesn't help his nervousness. Opal leans in and tries to read his face. "I have no idea what you're up to Odair. Why do you keep approaching my tributes and giving them advice? Especially Raven? Do you think she's helpless or something?"
Finnick shakes his head, slightly offended that his role model is thinking he has ill intentions. "Not at all. She just reminds me a lot of when I was a tribute. It'd suck to see someone so young deal with the aftermath of the games."
Opal understands where Finnick is coming from, but still doesn't appreciate how much he's upsetting and distracting her. "How does she remind you of yourself?" She is genuinely curious, as she doesn't know Finnick that well. "You're still a kid yourself, you realize?"
Finnick's shoulders relax, realizing Opal is no longer coming from a place of accusation. "She's putting on a facade and charming the Capitol. Some people are looking at her in such a disgusting way. Don't act shocked, you know it's true," he says, no longer sounding as charming. "If I can't protect myself from the greedy eyes of the Capitol, why not help someone else out?" Opal holds back a laugh but nods in approval.
"Look, I know you mean well. Ok? But I can't have you distracting Raven. Please try to stay away," she softly requests. Finnick gives a weak smile in understanding, before bidding her a good evening.
.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.
Opal sees that Raven's plate is empty and immediately adds another serving of food into it, just like a mother who is coddling their child. Raven secretly enjoys the motherly gesture, but only shows her appreciation with a nod of her head. "You two keep eating, and we'll take a look at the reaping and scope out the competition, understand?" Raven and Ronan but nod and then look at the TV, where the reapings are playing. "I'll be playing the career districts and then we can worry about the rest."
"District 1: Sapphire Clause and Bradley Chase. Careers, both 18 years old, and if you can't tell, are both extremely muscled up. Any guesses to their strengths?" She looks expectantly at Raven, knowing she is good at reading people. Raven lights up and wipes her mouth, happy to be able to contribute to something.
"I'd assume they both are excellent at hand to hand combat. The boy seems to be a swordsman based on the calluses on his hands. I can't tell about the girl," she admits sheepishly at the end.
"No worries. The girl wasn't quiet during the parade, and admitted to being a master with a bow and arrow. She will be lethal long distance and in close range. District 2: Wisteria Jane and Clay Stonehedge. Wisteria is 16, Clay is 17. Clay is more on the lanky side, but don't let that fool you. Look at his hands: You can tell he's got good grip strength." Ronan clings onto Raven's hand, slightly afraid at the prospect of such talented adversaries. "District 4-"
"Misty and Poseidon," Raven completes, remembering their encounter earlier. "Misty's 17, Poseidon's 18. They aren't too bulky, but definitely muscular and toned. Finnick didn't hide the fact that he is more hopeful for Misty's success in the games. Misty uses a trident and is the stronger swimmer. The male tribute uses heavier weapons, such as spikes. He'll likely use the heavy things around him to his advantage." Opal smiles, digging through her pocket for her cigarette packet, and sighing in relief when she found it. "What about the rest of the tributes?" Raven eagerly questioned.
"District 3 and 11 are always one to look out for. Three knows how to manipulate the technology in the arena, and eleven knows what food you can or cannot eat, and they may use that to trick you." She huffs from her cigarette before pausing. She clears her throat, suddenly feeling inconsiderate for doing it in front of them, but brushes it off. "Tomorrow, you two are not to reveal your skills whatsoever. Raven, you said you're slow at tree-climbing, so take a lesson on it. Take survival lessons: Fire, climbing, safe plants and animals, hunting, you get me?"
"What about self-defense?" Ronan jumps in.
"You two already have a jump on that. But save all the fancy weaponry skills for when the gamemakers evaluate you. Take self defense lessons from me. I'll teach you that. Be prepared, I won't be going easy on you two," she chuckles, taking another puff of her cigarette.
·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.
During the lunch break in between the training periods, she sat with Ronan, until they are joined by the district 4 tributes. Poseidon and Misty don't even bother trying to start a conversation with Raven, and instead talk with Ronan. Raven tunes them out and begins to think about her training session with Opal later.
Unlike other children from district 6, during her games, she was a proud 5'10. And despite being on the skinnier side, she put up a good fight, having been working making transportation since she was 13. She was legendary for her brutal kills and for drawing a smile on the victims she killed. A little insane? Sure. But Raven can deal with insane. If anyone could teach her self defense, it's Opal.
When they've all entered the training center, Raven is practicing climbing trees. She does it over and over, and refuses to stop until she can scurry up it like a squirrel. She's panting, but she pushes through and continues until she has achieved a time that satisfies her. She looks around and is glad to see that no one has seen her constantly climbing the same goddamn tree over and over again while panting like a puppy. Or at least: She thought no one is looking at her.
The district 1 and 2 tributes, who are near the knife station, are looking at Raven like she is fresh meat. "Guarantee you, she's the first out," Sapphire says. She looks at her district one partner who laughs with her. "Still want those knife throwing lessons?" She asks her partner. Bradley nods. Sapphire smirks while grabbing one of the small, throwing knives. "Watch and learn." It is at this moment that Raven looks up from the snare she is practicing and immediately stands up. Her hands are itching to touch the smooth weapons, but she can't and watches in anguish. She hopes that the girl embarrasses herself and misses, yet it lands perfectly in the center of the dummy. Raven balls her hands into fists and goes back onto her knees, gritting her teeth while finishing the snare. Yet that is when the bell rings, signaling the end of the first training day. If she looks up, she will see Finnick noticing her reaction to Sapphire's knife throwing.
"You throw knives?" Raven flinches and looks to her right to find the source of the sound: Finnick. "You just seemed annoyed that you couldn't use them during training. Is Opal telling you not to practice anything with weaponry?" Raven rolls her eyes and tries to enter the elevator but a group of tributes enter before her. "Looks like you're stuck with me," Finnick smilingly jokes.
"Finnick," Raven lashes.
"Yes?" He innocently responds.
"Are you going to tell your tributes? Is that why you're doing this?"
"Oh, not at all. Misty will be fine without all that information anyways. Besides, I'm sure the moment you get a hand on those knives, everyone will know," he voices in a casual tone. Finnick's proud smile drops when he sees Raven swallow uncomfortably. "Did I... did I say something wrong?" Finnick stammers, clearly concerned he went too far.
"No, you didn't." The dull expression on her face is replaced with her old, stone-cold expression. "I'm just being stupid."
The elevator door opens and Raven enters it along with Finnick. Raven is feeling extremely embarrassed at the moment, and refuses to even look in the same direction as him. Now- even if Finnick doesn't show it, one of his biggest fears is hurting someone's feelings. Especially the one who is about to suffer hell. He can't let her go into the arena having any sour feelings attached to someone. He stands in front of her, still feeling like the world's worst person. "I'm sorry if I said something to offend you," he sincerely apologizes.
"Finnick, do you think I'll kill people in the arena?" She looks up with saddened eyes and a pale face. Finnick is taken aback by the expression, knowing the answer isn't pretty. "Because earlier you said everyone will know once I get my hands on knives. Do I really seem like a cold-blooded killer?" Her voice is practically pleading for him to say no. And even though she may want that to be true, she much rather wants to hear the true answer, and Finnick knows that.
He nods shamefully. "The Capitol will see you on screen and see someone who will shed lots of blood because of the presence you've formed. But that's a good thing. That means you'll get sponsors and survive. But that doesn't mean you are a killer. You're just a kid who's been put in a bad situation like the rest of us." The elevator stops at Finnick's floor and he smiles. "Don't let it get to your head. Good luck in the arena," he mumbles at the end, before strutting out.
The moment Raven enters the room she pounces on Ronan, grabbing him by his shoulders. "I need you to answer my question right now, and I need an honest answer," she commands, desperation hanging at the back of her voice. Ronan nods, feeling sorry for Raven. "Do I seem like I'll kill in the arena?" Ronan doesn't answer and glances away from her. Raven shakes him slightly and yells now, causing Opal and Oakley to come check what the commotion is about. "Do you think I'll be a cold-blooded killer goddamnit!" Raven shrieks.
Ronan takes a shuddering breath, glancing to the side at Opal and Oakley for help. "Just answer her honestly," Opal helplessly says, knowing Raven will need to accept it sooner or later.
"I don't think you're a cold-blooded killer. But considering just your aura in general, and the way the Capitol is talking about you, and what your name is associated with, hell yeah I think you'll be forced to act as one."
Raven lets go of Ronan's shirt and forces a smile on her face and turns to Opal. "Is this the plan? Is the plan to make my presence as a stone-hard person who will kill for no one?" Opal purses her lips and nods.
"It's our strategy to keep you alive, and you've known about it you just didn't want to think about it."
Raven can't keep it in anymore. She knows that she is going to be playing a role, but never did she expect it to go this far. She doesn't want to become the killer the Capitol wants her to be. She doesn't want to be a Capitol dog. She storms out of the living room to her room, ignoring Opal's calls for dinner. "Leave me alone!" she screams out, entering her room and slamming the door shut. She immediately heads to the shower and cries her eyes out. She can't become a killer. She just can't. Even if she wants to, how can she kill boys and girls much older, stronger, faster, and skilled than her? She's just so confused and she wants the confusion to stop and to have a clear mind so she knows where she stands with herself.
She feels her mind slowly drifting away from her at the notion of her killing people, because she knows she can and will do it. When she's done crying and looks in the mirror, she doesn't recognize the child staring back: A child who has now been pushed over the edge to kill people to survive. Everyone thinks she's a killer, or has the capacity to become one.
Her still maturing mind isn't able to yet comprehend why it's a good thing, and the only way her young brain can think of responding is through a tween tantrum.