I know on my profile it says I will only have one story on going, and i will update that soon, but this popped into my head and before i knew it i had written a few chapters in the memos of my phone. I hope you like it as I am a new Clato shipper!
As Cato looked at the determined dark haired girl he was supposed to shake hands with he tried to recollect what little information he had on her. He knew her as well as anyone else which was to say he had hardly ever spoken to her and no one really knew her. She was a loner, only 15, moved up into the class of 17 to 18 year olds because of her deadly skill; not because her parents had paid extra to get her moved up like some of the other individuals in their class. Her knives were not items anyone wished to be on the receiving end of- as a few of their classmates had quickly found out after teasing her over her short, 5"4 stature and other things he hadn't really paid attention to.
What he had paid attention to was their mentions of her being deadly, his friends hadn't quite been the same since and, according to them, she enjoyed the thrill of when she cut them- nothing to serious. A finger. A few toes. Accidental stabs and cuts in training. Apparently she had also left a c on their bodies but no one was telling where. Meticulous. She took care of her blades and everything to do with them was, to her, an art form. He had never heard her say more than a few words, but had been told she loved to taunt, that her dark eyes shimmered in anticipation of the kill- something he was certain she had taken part in before. If the rumour mill was correct she had been the reason her dad had died when she was only 13, something most of the class thought believable. At any rate many of the younger students gave her a wide berth even now, two years later. There had also been rumours that she was abused at home, she could beat almost all of them without ever taking a hit, especially at long range, but for a period of time before his death odd bruises would appear on the skin that her training suit or clothes didn't cover, the odd black eye or mark around her neck. His girls told him that she never changed unless they were gone. She was also not one for physical contact, unlike him who revelled in friends, parties and nigh time trysts with their female classmates. That was all it was to him, fun, nothing serious. Clove was serious.
They couldn't have been more different as he towered over her frame and grasped her small, pale, delicate hand in his larger, slightly tanned one. Cato squeezed, as if trying to gauze how tough she really was. To his surprise she didn't even flinch, her black polished nails digging into his hand as she looked up, dark midnight eyes matching her steely expression and his baby blue ones smirking back.
"And may the odds ever be in your favour." The capitol woman neither had bothered to catch the name of before watching the history of the games ushered off stage where they were separated and pushed into separate rooms guarded by peacekeepers.
Clove sat, waiting for Cato to appear so that they could board the 200 mph train that was waiting to take them to the capitol. She was already done with her goodbyes but she had seen some of his family go in, along with friends and fans who hadn't even bothered to glance as the solitary girl who sat in regimented position on a chair. She had only had their trainer if 3 years visit and that had only been due to not having anyone else to say goodbye to. He'd given good, solid advice but advice that she had already worked out for herself and none of the ideas were anything other than previously used strategies. She smoothed down the only dress she had, black strapless with a red sash tied around the middle, falling mid thigh as it flared slightly. The weather was, thankfully, warm and it was simple and elegant- though her black spiked heels spoke of deadly undercurrents and the only jewellery she wore was the pendant that she was using as her token. For once her hair was down, normally tied up in a scruffy ponytail after a long days training. She had always pushed herself to be better, than her father, than the other trainees, than herself.
She sat rigid as she thought about the boy whom she would undoubtedly make an alliance with in the arena. Cato. He was tall, strong, bloody and ruthless. But his attacks and being was far more clumsy than herself and, even as introverted as she was Clove knew he was popular, with many friends and girls who he often spent the night with. He had a volatile temper, one he often couldn't control and she doubted they would get on well, she had always prided herself on having control of her emotions. However he had something, a family, a life, to return to and no matter how much she wanted to win if they were the last two she knew that, despite the stone heart she held towards most things, she would let him return to his family, as it seemed, unlike hers had, to actually care for him.
Fifteen minuted later he appeared, in a blue shirt and black trousers that set off his eyes. They had all made an effort to look their best today- it was something to be proud of in their district and they looked forward, trained for this day. It helped that he was from one of the districts richer families and could afford the best materials and clothes. He ruffled his hair and sat on the stiff chair opposite, slouching, a total contrast to her stiff position. He obviously didn't like silence as he tapped his foot, shuffled, fiddled and cracked his knuckles, showing himself not to be a particularly patient person,
"So, how long have you been waiting?" He asked finally, not really expecting an answer from the solitary girl whom had barley even glanced in his direction.
"About 20 minutes, I assume they will come and get us soon." He stared at her, slightly confused.
"But that means that you only had one visitor." She nodded, as though that was obvious, "I mean I know you don't have friends around the centre but surely you had some family or someone to come say goodbye."
"No." The silence that followed was more awkward than the original as the boy twisted his hands and began drumming.
"Well, sorry for your loss." She smirked at him, as though he was missing the point entirely which infuriated him slightly.
"Don't be, its been a while since I was without anyone and personally I prefer it this way." To Cato, despite his tough exterior and rough attitude this was strange. He always made an effort to see his family in the evenings, as he left before any of them were up in order to get to training. They were the only people who had his complete love and trust,
"Where do you live? How do you get food or anything- we train most of the week and are back too late for any of the markets?"
"I buy it with the money from my parents deaths on our days off, if not one of the ladies at the market delivers it for me, they are unusually fond of me as though I am a street urchin that needs looking after. I have a small house that I own now and get a monthly allowance from what I have received in their wills. Its not that bad- you get used to it." Her tone was final and Cato realised that this was not a topic she wanted to talk about further so fell silent. Fortunately the peacekeepers walked in and both stood.
"You have your tokens?" Neither handed anything over. "They have to be checked." Still nothing, just as the peacekeeper moved forward Clove stepped towards him.
"We will give then to our stylists as happened every year." She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms which, to Cato, was a stance he often adopted to intimidate. The peacekeeper looked slightly upset that he hadn't conned them out of anything but led them to the train where the only thanks was a sarcastic remark made by the pint sized girl.
No one else was present in the carriage and they sat alone in the luxurious room. District two was one of the wealthy districts but the capitol was ridiculous in its frivolity and attempts at creating luxury. The woman who had gleefully called their names walked in, with shocking green hair and a pale white face that contrasted with her electric clothing, something that was a ghastly shade of green- supposedly to match her hair. She had been re made by capitol stylists and, to both of the tributes, looked like an idiot.
"Welcome, welcome, your mentors will be out soon, please help yourself. You have rooms further down the carriage that we have filled with clothes and anything else we feel you may need. There are also snacks here and drinks." Without a word Clove exited the room through the door instructed and, purely because he had nothing else to do Cato watched. Enobaria and Brutus walked in a fraction of a moment later through the south door, the former someone wished never to meet. She tore out her competitors throats and while he admired ruthlessness that was extremist and almost cannibalism, especially now she had had her teeth sharpened as a reminder. Brutus on the other hand was large and tough, reminding Cato of himself and he hoped they were paired up with as such.
"Where is her girl?" Their male mentor asked in a rough voice as the woman dithered.
"I don't know, she just walked out and.., there you are honey, in you come. These are your mentors, Brutus and Enobaria." Clove hadn't changed anything but her footwear, changing into black pumps as heels were not her shoe of choice.
"Sorry, my heels were annoying me, their not really my thing, so I had to change them. Nice to meet them." She shook their hands,a fraction after Cato had though their mentors looked at her slightly disbelieving, as tough she was too young to win as she looked far weaker than her male counter part as she sat, his frame still far broader, more muscular and far taller than her own. Their mentors sat opposite.
"You are both careers are you not?" They both nodded. "And you, you're only 15? that's not the top age bracket, why did no one volunteer for you?" Cato felt that Enobaria wasn't giving Clove a fair chance and jumped in to answer for her- it was obvious out of the pair that he looked far stronger- something a lot of their classmates underestimated again and again.
"She trains with us, has done for years. She can easily beat the majority of our class- no one would dare volunteer for her." Clove rolled her eyes and then the dark orbs fixated on their female mentor.
"What he means is that the girls in our class have little talent and I easily surpass them in all areas, including hand to hand combat, and am always underestimated." She crossed her right leg over her left and Cato noticed she was now twirling a blade in her hand, though no one could see it from the opposite side of the coffee table.
"So you have some skills then? You need to tell us so we can try and help you. Boy?" Brutus asked roughly.
"I'm Cato and my weapon of choice is a sword. I can wrestle and am pretty good with a spear and most of the other weapons."
"Clove and knives are my speciality but slightly longer daggers are just as good. I surpassed our teacher long ago. I can use other weapons fairly well but I don't tend to miss with a knife." Her hands elevated to above the table where the knife was still weaving in and our of her fingers. It never drew blood as it span and was obviously her own, sharp and clean. Enobaria grinned, her elongated teeth giving it a more dangerous look.
"Hit the middle of that painting, the apple." The target was small but after a short glance Clove, un-phased, sent the sharp blade straight threw it despite no longer looking at the picture. It embedded itself into the panelling of the train with a soft thud. " You were not exaggerating then?"
"I don't lie, especially not when it comes to something that could save my life."
"That was an expensive painting that you just ruined."
"Shut up glamour or I'll tear your throat out." Enobaria growled and the capitol woman quickly shut her mouth and whimpered while the tributes smirked. "Good, you will be underestimated and that can be an advantage. Are either of you opposed to a good show, torture, maiming, dragging out kills?" Cato looked at his partner, he knew she wouldn't mind and if she'd listened to the rumours flying about him and his blood lust, how he took his girls rough and harmed his opponents then she would know what he too was not opposed to the idea. It seemed she had heard as her eyes sparkled in longing as she gave a predatory smile, one that made her look slightly psychopathic.
"Not at all and Cato is on board also, are you not?" He smirked back.
"Of course."
The air had become marginally thicker, more dangerous somehow as the four trained killers looked at each other. It seemed, and both mentors smirked at this fact, that they had finally found a pair who could easily win.
"Any tactics? Have you given any thought to that?"
"Career pack as always, weed out a bit of the weak and strong, look at the reaping and training to see who stands out, maybe invite some others. Leave the very weak and pitiful." Cato answered, an almost maniacal grin on his face that was matched by the mysterious one given by the girl next to him who looked like the cat who had just gotten the cream.
"Great minds think alike." She murmured and their mentors nodded.
"Just what we would have recommended, shall we go look at the other reapings?" Cato stood and allowed Clove to walk in front of him despite not having known much about her before the reaping it seemed that they ere very similar- they had only fought together once or twice in the training centre, despite the classes not being too big, and it had been stalemate both times yet he had seen,and she had watched, as the other easily tore into their opponents and almost sadistically harmed them- though this of course was encouraged rather than frowned upon. It was now clear to both themselves, and their mentors, that they had it within themselves to gladly kill, as though it was second nature, though neither would want to take the other to the final two as there was no knowing who would win.
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