Hey there! Thanks for clicking on the story it's my first one! I absolutely love Cato and Clove especially their characters, so this is my interpretation of a scenario that happened between them during the final days before the games and I hope you enjoy it :) I'd love feedback and if you review I will try my best to review on of your stories. Suzanne Collins owns everything recognizable! Oh and any names you don't recognize are Latin;Cachinnant is laughter, Cultris is knives and Gladiis is swords.
Clove stifled a yawn behind a perfectly manicured hand. Her stylist, Cachinnant, and the prep team had been 'fixing' her all day. Quite frankly, the physical and mental effort needed to restrain herself from stabbing them had exhausted her. They reminded her of the clowns she had read about in an old book back home. Freakish outfits in garish colors painted smiles on their faces even when they were being ridiculed. All helping to run this farce, this circus called The Hunger Games. Sure she had volunteered; she had been training for the Games her entire life. But she wanted to kill, to see the anguish on their disgusting little faces as her knives hit the target. Cloves wanted to decide who lived and who died. She dreamed of holding their lives in her hands. She craved that power. Clove Cultris was going to be the most sadistic, blood-lusting trib-. Victor. The most sadistic and blood-lusting victor ever.
She was torn from her delightful daydream upon the realization that her clown's incessive squeaking had ceased. Her eyes snapped up and it took all of her pride not to gasp aloud. Instead she simply smirked. Before her stood a beautiful girl, tan skin, floaty orange dress tumbling down her body. The girl's long dark hair was piled atop of her head, light make-up highlighting her high cheek bones, illuminating her freckles and defining her dark eyes. She looked powerful, fierce, strong. She looked like competition. She definitely looked older than 15. Best of all though she looked like a god. One particular one, the Roman goddess of victory Nike, sprang to mind and her smirk grew.
Suddenly their escort Archelaus burst through the door followed by the man of the hour, Cato Gladiis. She had to admit he looked reasonable. He was wearing a striking black tux with a silver shirt, the top couple of buttons undone. His blonde hair was spiked slightly, setting off his crystal blue eyes. They glittered with what could only be described as hunger as they roamed lazily down her body. "My, my," he smirked, "the prep teams here really are talented." Clove simply ignored him, teeth grinding together. When she reached the door however she turned back for a moment, "Hurry up Archelaus! If we stay in her for much longer Cato's ego will explode thanks to all of the mirrors." She spat.
When they arrived in the holding area most of the other tributes were already there. Cloves knuckles whitened as Cato strutted straight over to the bimbo from one, who immediately began fawning over him. Simply the sight of that poisonous little slug made her blood boil with rage. She gave blondes everywhere a bad name. The girl was supposed to be a trained killer, an expert with the bow and arrow. Yeah and Clove was a ballerina. How dare she think herself worthy to even compete with Clove?! She turned away, sickened by the sight of Glitter (or whatever her name was) who was now attached to like a limpet and managed to walk right into a large, muscular chest. It was attached to two arms, currently encircling her waist and a head complete with tousled light brown hair and green eyes sparkling evilly. "Hey, there's good reason to be nervous but I don't think sponsors would look too kindly on running away scared." He chuckled darkly.
"I'm a Career!" she snapped contemptuously, "Careers don't get scared." His smirk grew wider, "Oh you must be Clove. I'm Marvel…from District 1" he continued upon seeing her confused scowl. "I decided I'd better introduce myself seeing how well our district partners are… acquainting themselves…"
The only reason she didn't hit him was because the final tributes had just arrived and were causing quite a commotion. At first she didn't understand the girls reddish dress, the flames on the boy's cuffs. And then it clicked. It was the Girl on Fire; the matching set from district 12.
"They look like collectors items!" Marvel snarled
"Can't wait to add them to my collection then."
"Of what, dolls?"
They laughed, grinning sadistically at each other. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw Cato's smarmy smirk falter slightly and an idea began to take root in her mind. She stretched up on tiptoe and straightened Marvel's bow-tie. When Clove met his gaze, highly aware that their faces were so close that she could feel his breath washing over her features, she smiled. Not sadistically, oh no rather, how she had seen her sister smile at the new peacekeeper how that thing from 1 smiled at Cato…
Suddenly their two became a four. "Who the hell is this?" Cato said coldly. "Marvel, district 1." There was a stony silence that Glitter was dense enough to break. "Cato tell me again how many push-ups you can do? You're sooo strong…" she was probably trying to be alluring (if she even knew what that meant) but Clove just thought it looked like her eyebrows were having a seizure. Two could play at this game.
"So Marvel what's your weapon?"
"Spear."
"Oh…and would you say…you had a long spear?"
"Definitely."
"That'll be a nice change all the boys in Two seem to have short weapons."
"Hmmm maybe you need to see it to believe it?" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively as Clove smirked "I look forward to it."
Cato froze having heard their little exchange and glowered at the pair of them. "I know what'd really set him off." So he'd caught on; excellent. Next thing she knew Marvels arm was wrapped around her waist his lips at her ear. "You really are a manipulative little physco aren't you? It's a good thing I like strong women then." He stage whispered the last part. This had the desired effect of Cato turning beet red and letting go of Glitter like she burned him.
"Clove we have to talk interview strategies. Alone." Cato barked, dragging her out into the hall. "What the hell was that!" he growled. "I don't know what you're talking about…" Clove replied, feigning innocence. "You and that prick from One what are you playing at?"
"What, so you can get some with that slut Glitter and I can't even talk to Marvel!" she was angry now, no-one told her what to do.
"Her name's Glimmer."
"We both don't give a fuck what her name is Cato! She's a worthless distraction and if it costs me the victors crown…!" Clove snarled. To her outrage he smirked at her. That arrogant, stupid, cocky- He pressed himself nearer to her, up against the wall. "Wow Clove. Jealousy looks good on you." Clove let out a cry of rage and stormed off.
The interviews were going well; Clove was sarcastic, deadly, and sadistic. Cato was brutal, intimidating and bloody. Until those pieces of crap from Twelve stole the show with spinning and declarations of love and fire. Cato was in such a rage that he spent most of the night in the training centre busting up dummies he imagined had twelve's' faces on them. When he arrived back on their floor he was pleasantly surprised to find Clove sitting on the couch wearing a tight black dress and light makeup. "I'm not complaining but why are you wearing that?"
"Oh Cato, while you where mindlessly trashing dummies Brutus, Enobaria and I decided to be productive and devised a plan." She was smiling evilly at him. "To cement our alliance and try to steal some of Twelve's-ah fire- I'm going to seduce Marvel. This isn't for you it's for him.
Cato exploded like a twisted, messy firework.
Before she even knew what was happening he had pinned her against the wall, body flush against hers. "Oh dear, I'm afraid jealousy doesn't look good on you Cato darling." She chocked out. Rewarding his earlier taunt and trying to get a rise out of him probably wasn't the best course of action, seeing as her air supply was limited, but she couldn't help it. His anger was almost addictive. "Don't worry you can still have Glimmer as your bit on the side" He proceeded to shut her up by kissing her roughly, his large hands leaving bruises on her waist. It was passionate, hungry, rough, demanding. And Clove loved it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, eagerly plunging her fingers into his hair. However just as things started to heat up and the need for oxygen reached critical, she jabbed her fingers into the TW15 pressure point at his shoulder and slipped free as though she was a wisp of smoke. "Better hurry, don't want to keep Marvel waiting." She smirked breathlessly. The older boy growled softly under his breath and she was sure she heard the words "…effing prick can go fuck himself…" He let her go though, eyes glittering dangerously.
Clove looked unusually harried as she stood in the elevator, fidgeting with the knife strapped to her thigh. The kiss was a bad idea, a tactical error. It had given Cato the wrong impression. More importantly it had made her lose the ability of coherent thought and left her trembling. She never trembled! The girl tried fruitlessly to calm her heart rate and fixed her dress. Somehow she didn't think Cato would be as annoyed if he knew that the only thing her and Marvel would be 'doing' would be annoying the crap out of each other. The plan hadn't been a lie but all it would consist of was outrageous flirting and the occasional kiss, nothing like what she'd suggested to Cato. Cato. Cato, Cato, Cato. She rolled the name around on her tongue, testing it. Cato. Why'd he have to screw everything up, why'd he have to volunteer? Clove had had this all planned out from age five and that boy sticking his god damn tongue down his throat was not part of it. She breathed deeply as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.