Author's Note: Well, here's the reworking of the first chapter! I've done some condensing and added in some things here and there! There will probably be one more reworked chapter, and then new content! Yay for editing! :D

Story feedback is always coveted and encouraged, and definitely welcomed. Please keep any story hate or flaming/bullying to yourself, however. There are plenty of stories out there, if this one isn't for you, I encourage you to find one that is!

Disclaimer: Please see beginning!


-One-


"Seneca Crane."

Her voice was pleasant enough as its airy and light tone filled his ears, but he still froze in place as he lifted the forkful of braised lamb to his lips. At nineteen years-old, she shouldn't have any sort of hold over him, or frighten him either for that matter; but with her surname and that smile that could turn from sweetly beaming to sinisterly malicious in a single second…

She kind of did.

He lowered the silver utensil back to his plate, lifting his head and taking her in with a pair of blue-gray eyes.

Foregoing the usual Capitol style of exuberant wigs and fashion, she chose instead to clad herself in vibrant colors and sparkles. For the televised Reaping, she had sat on the upper balcony in the main atrium surrounded by those who did their best to remain close to her, primly sipping flutes of champagne. It wasn't lost on him that he was the first person she was visiting after the broadcast, not even returning to her suites to change from the wispy, shimmering silver number she was dressed up in. She had never really been one to engage in the extremities of the Capitol, choosing instead to remain with her natural hair, eye, and skin tones. He could understand why, even he could see her beauty in the long length of snowy hair, chilling blue orbs that peeked out from beneath full and thick ebony lashes, and a fair skin tone that matched perfectly with both. She was exotic in an inherent way, without the aid of dyes and alterations.

"Electra Snow," He returned after clearing his throat, patting at his lips with a lime green napkin that had been folded upon his lap. "What can I do for you?"

She flashed him a blinding smile before pointing to the empty seat across from him. "May I?"

He arched an intricately trimmed eyebrow and smoothed his thumb and index finger over his equally trimmed beard, waving his free hand toward the open seat invitingly.

"Please."

Electra gave him another charming smile, slipping out of the silvery fur stole draped over her shoulders before lowering herself delicately into the seat, murmuring her thanks to the Avox boy that had appeared almost from thin air upon her arrival to push in her chair. She ordered a single glass of wine, crossing one leg over the other under the table and propping her chin in the cup of her palm as she turned her chilling eyes on him.

It was silent.

She watched him carefully as he watched her, neither choosing to fill the air with banal small talk; instead she allowed his mind to submerge into a doubtless frenzy as he tried to puzzle out her appearance upon his evening meal. It had been a long time since she came to him with a proposal of any sort, though the last time her idea had gotten him promoted to Head Gamemaker. True, she had done it with a secret hope that it would one day prove useful.

Today was that day.

With a gentle sip of her wine, she blinked her eyes back up to pin him with her gaze.

"I have a request."

Seneca groaned quietly, his eyes falling shut.

A quiet laugh escaped her lips as she watched him, more than amused at his obviously pained expression. Closed eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, the thirty year-old had even pushed his plate away and thrown his outrageously colored napkin down upon the spotless table. She took the moment to look him over, approving of the trim cut of his tailored suit, though he could have gone with a better color than the deeply purple pattern. The lapels were more of a lavender hue, the handkerchief matching with swirls hidden in amongst the thread.

She smothered the urge to laugh.

"Electra, you know that I cannot-" He began, heaving a sigh.

She rolled her eyes and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Oh please, don't give me the same speech you give the others. You owe me Seneca, I'm the sole reason you hold the seat you do now."

He narrowed his eyes into squinted slits.

She merely grinned back at the infuriated man, a wicked thing with a flash of pearly white teeth.

Aware of the growing crowd gathering outside of the tall windows their table was pressed against, Seneca smoothed his facial features into ones of a pleasant comradery, relaxing the muscle in his jaw so that it wouldn't continue to tick sporadically in his irritation. Electra relaxed in her seat, the poise something along the lines of a lazy grace as she chose to let the man stew in his thoughts, taking small sips of her wine as he jerkily pulled his half-full plate back in front of himself, realigning the silk napkin in his lap.

"What do you want?" He bit out, refusing to let his tone corrupt his small grin.

"A simple thing," She murmured, looking up through her lashes innocently.

Seneca waited impatiently, more than likely wishing he could reach a single arm across the fine oak table and strangle her with his own bare hand, she was sure. He arched his dark eyebrows high on his forehead, chewing a bite of tender lamb a tad more viciously than called for, gesturing idly for her to proceed.

"Florian." She stated bluntly, leveling her now steely eyes with his. "I want him out."

He nearly choked on his meal, taking a large gulp of wine to wash the lump of unchewed meat down his throat before he made a fool of himself in front of both the Snow Heiress and the quickly amassing public, all of which were bouncing excitedly outside of the windows.

"He makes his District tributes look like a pathetic joke-" She continued, gritting her teeth when Seneca interrupted.

"They are a joke, Electra."

"Not this year…this year they have potential," Electra hummed, narrowing her eyes a bit. "And I won't have a fashion has-been completely wrecking their chances in their Capitol debut."

Seneca pushed back his plate as he sank into the plush cushion of his seat, the cleaned surface reflecting under the chandeliers that hung above, signaling to an Avox servant that he was done. She gave the young boy a charming smile, doing her best to ease the guilt churning in her stomach over his predicament, and turned her eyes back to the man across from her when he cleared his throat, demanding her attentions. He eyed her carefully as she did, and the blonde didn't shy away from his gaze as it dipped over her before moving back up again.

"Is that it then?" He laughed quietly, a derisive and mocking amusement dripping from his tone. "You've picked the poor little District Twelve girl as your Victor this year?"

Electra bit back a snarl, forcing her lips to curve into an inviting smile instead of the cruel sneer that threatened to stretch across her face at his patronizing tone. Instead, she gave him a secretive shrug, a coy look slipping over her features as she batted thick, inky lashes at him.

"Call me a romantic," She tutted, before giving a roll of her eyes. "Besides, you and I both know the fool lost his touch long ago."

Seneca eased back further into his seat, crossing one leg over the other and curling his fingers around the edges of the armrest, balancing a small cup of espresso on his knee. She mirrored his posture, lifting the crystal wine glass to her lips as she waited for his verdict, her heart beating a little more rapidly in her chest as she held his gaze, a small grin pulling her lips upward. There was a spike in the general din of noises from the street-front, a round of coos rising on the air from their audience that went unnoticed by the duo.

If she could just pull this off…

"Who do you have in mind?" He questioned, his genuine curiosity brimming to the surface, unable to be quelled any longer.

Electra nearly wilted back into her seat, her outward expression displaying none of the true relief she felt. If he was asking her opinions, then he was coming around to her way of thinking. Her statement wasn't very arguable anyway, the elder Tribute Stylist had begun declining in his works of fashion back when she was still young and naïve. Fixing an excited smile upon her face, she sat forward again as if to share a secret with the man, abandoning her wine glass.

"Cinna. He would do well," She supplied, her lips quirking. "He does excellent work, I can assure you."

Her tone was breathy, feminine, and she watched as the elder male's eyes darkened just a touch at the edges as they perused her form, both openly and greedily inspecting the tight bodice of her sparkling silver dress before letting them drift down to the flowy skirt that cut across her thighs at an angle. His expression wasn't one that she was unfamiliar with, and something curled deep within her belly as she forced herself to remain still beneath his heavy gaze.

"Yes, I daresay he does." Seneca murmured, his tone deeper than before.

She gave him a moment before clearing her throat.

He blinked rapidly, breaking their steady gazes before sitting upright and taking a large drink of the scalding liquid in his cup, burning his mind back into its proper place as he considered her request. He shifted slightly in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. The girl was right and he detested that fact. The old stylist had been a disappointment for some time lately, and he did owe her, loathe as he was to admit it. Seneca gave a resigned sigh, glancing at the watch beneath his cuff, more than aware of the late time with an early, hectic schedule the next day. He didn't wish to argue, or dig any deeper to try and decode her motives over such a last minute proposition.

"Fine." He snapped, moving to stand. "Tell your favorite he can take District Twelve, he put in a request for them anyway I believe, though why anyone would want such a place…"

Seneca shook his head, dismissing it with a small scoff.

Her squeal of glee reverberated through the open restaurant, drawing inquisitive glances from those within and exclamations from those who had gathered along the public walkway, each awaiting her exit, no doubt hoping to win a moment of her time. Seneca could not halt the indulgent grin that twisted his lips despite his earlier irritation, helping her to stand before gently draping the fur back in place, over her shoulders. His large hands smoothed away any wrinkles under a guise of adoration, but the grip on her upper arms as his fingers curled around them was harsh and nearly bruising. He leaned in over her shoulder, lips brushing lightly over sensitive skin, to whisper hotly against her ear.

"Do not make me regret this, Elle."


She stood overlooking the water, concentrating on the lap of tiny waves and the hum of fountains instead of the crowd miles behind her. Moonlight reflected off of the sparkles in her dress and heels, even the long length of snowy hair that tumbled down her back; it made her look almost ethereal to any who happened to pass by, though most were caught up within the Reaping celebrations in the heart of the city. Her nails tapped lightly against the safety rail that kept those with little sense from falling into the darkened depths below, the quiet noise a steady beat through her thoughts.

He was meeting her.

And she was jittery with both apprehension and excitement.

If she was even remotely right in her musings, this could be the opening they needed, their statement waiting to be made.

The man approached from the left, his pace confident and his gait powerful, but altogether unhurried. A garment bag was draped over his shoulder lazily, but with sincere care, a few boxes tucked underneath the opposite arm as well. He was dressed in dark clothing and, like her, he left most of the over-the-top enhancements to the many other citizens of the Capitol to indulge in; save a smooth, wispy stripe of gold eyeliner along each lid. She turned to face him as he stopped alongside her, reaching up to wrap her arms around his shoulders in a warm hug after he placed the items safely upon the bench seat next to them.

"Cinna!" She greeted, her tone content but hushed.

The dark haired man grinned down at her, brushing a strand of rebellious hair from her face. "Elle, I thought surely you would have rather me come to you with your things instead of this."

"No, no-" Electra chided, rolling her eyes playfully. "That's not at all why I called you here."

He looked puzzled, glancing around them quickly before arching an eyebrow in a curious speculation. The teasing, sly smile twisting her lips upward let him know something was amiss.

"I did it."

Cinna remained silent, staring down at her in confusion.

"You are in, and Florian is out."

His eyes flashed and widened at the same time before he grabbed the younger girl by her arms, pulling her into an embrace as he bent to whisper, his dark eyes tracing over every detail around them for a sign of danger. Those who joined them at the fountains were too far away to overhear, and any monitoring devices wouldn't pick up the sounds of such a low conversation over the hum and rush of water.

She had picked the spot wisely.

"Are you truly certain Electra, that you want to do this?"

For a short while she simply clung to him, feeling a calming wave of safety that she didn't most of the time. She was always looking over her shoulder, thinking and then triple thinking over her words before they ever left her lips. Her blood did not afford her any more leeway than most, sometimes even less so with what was expected.

Her mind touched briefly on all that she knew; the sickening spectacle put on each year, the amount of blood that stained and cursed most of her family's hands, the secrets that had been bestowed upon her in a rippling purr when she was but a girl of five and ten; leaving her heart bleeding and forever damaged, while butterflies roused and fluttered to life within her stomach.

Yes.

She nodded against his chest jerkily, ignoring the worried sigh that left his lips.

"I sure hope you can come up with one of your masterpieces Cinn," Her voice was quiet, but teasing. "You've got less than forty-eight hours to do it."


Their collective glares hit her the moment she stepped through the door.

Stepping was a generous term perhaps, it was more like a stumble, fumble and nearly a fall with the different bags and boxes she just barely managed to balance in her hands as she made the trip from the lobby to the penthouse of her suite building. Her arms burned lightly from the bit of a strain and she grumbled underneath her breath quietly, easily beginning to regret turning down Cinna's earlier insistence on delivering the parcels to her the next morning. Giving a small huff as she placed the boxes on the dining table, she blew a stray lock of hair from in front of electric blue eyes, turning to gaze across the open floor plan with a slight scowl and a great deal of confusion.

Frigid silver and cobalt blue stared back at her, unblinking.

"No, no!" Electra snarked, placing a single hand on her hip that was cocked to the side. "Please, don't get up or anything, I've got it all handled!"

Their eyes flashed with their apparent ire, and their lips stayed sealed.

Electra rolled her eyes, giving up on the both of them as she turned back around, gracing the small Avox girl that had appeared behind her with a gentle smile. The silent girl was a small thing with vibrant green eyes that crinkled just the slightest when her lips twitched upward in response, the limited company and safety of the penthouse suite being the only reason she felt comfortable in doing so.

Sensing the level of mounting tension, the redhead quickly gathered a few of the boxes, giving the elder girl a slight bow as she disappeared down the hallway once more with them, just as silent as she came.

"Where have you been?"

Kicking off her heels, the snowy haired girl padded around the curving couch into the living room, keeping her reaction to the voice hidden away from being displayed through her expression. It was rarely so chilled, laced with the hint of a barely controlled fury that she couldn't quite understand, especially when speaking to her. She blinked silently, her eyes finding their way toward the two teenage boys that lounged on the leather couch opposite of her, their stares boring into her skin.

They were complete opposites, putting their similar heights and statures aside.

One held a stare that was an icy silver which could turn to a molten gray depending on his mood, while the other was a striking cobalt blue that wasn't quite so different from her own. One possessed silky strands of the deepest black, as if he had dipped them in an inkwell or borrowed the hue from a stray jabberjay, and it just barely brushed against his shoulders in length. The other's was cut a few inches shorter, though it still reached just below his ears when it wasn't styled, and it reflected her own white-blonde locks. Perhaps the most noticeable difference aside from their contrasting hair colors was the glint of silver upon the dark headed boy's lip, a small ring of platinum that pierced the left corner of his lower lip.

They were each a few inches over six-feet tall, their features strong and chiseled, often shaped in impassive masks or fake smiles to please those who carefully looked on. She had known the both of them her entire life; if they weren't by her side, they were simply just a few paces over her shoulder.

"Electra."

She glanced up lazily, pulling her eyes from where they had strayed to peer down at the bubbles slowly rising in her glass, meeting the probing gaze of her twin brother.

"Orion."

The blue-eyed boy blew out a breath of frustration through his nose loudly, his eyebrows pulling downward and his defined jaw clenching tightly as he narrowed his eyes. She met them calmly, her own flash of irritation passing through the electric color of her eyes before she found herself slumping down into her seat, foregoing all pretense of proper posture as she gave in to him, if only slightly.

"There were a few things that I needed to attend to before I met with Cinna this evening, he'll be stopping by in the morning by the way," Electra hummed, tipping the drink to her lips for a sip. "-then I returned here. Happy now?"

Her tone held a hint of snark and a sneer, but there was no real heat behind it. She knew he only wished to keep her safe, and knowing where she had gone after disappearing without a word was half the act.

It was their best friend that she found herself worrying about.

The raven-haired boy was utterly silent in his seat, so quiet in fact that it set her teeth on edge. Those silvery eyes seemed to have hardened into shards of cloudy ice and were glaring, without blinking, down at the low table he was positioned in front of, like they could light the holo-pad resting there into an inferno with only the aid of his gaze. She sat up a bit, her lips parting so that she might question his behavior, but her words died in her throat when he suddenly lurched forward and reached out with a long arm, smacking the holo-pad with such a force, Electra feared it might crack.

A gaudy string of themed music echoed through the room, the telltale sign of the beginning to one of the Capitol's top gossip reports, and her blood turned just a bit cooler.

"Greetings Capitolians, Kozmo Steel here with your late night edition of ISpy; the go-to source for Panem's latest prattle, chatter and buzz!"

She didn't even notice that her bottom lip had become ensnared between her teeth as she watched the two-foot tall hologram flicker to life before her; even as warm fingers gently pried it loose, swiping the blood that stained the gentle pinkness of her lips away.

The tiny replica of the human form shimmered in the dim lights of the penthouse living room, the ostentatious man flashing a row of too-white teeth in what, some people, thought to be a charming manner. His hair was slicked back against his head and dyed a deep violet color, streaked and patterned throughout the hue with touches of silver and black. His skin was a bit too tanned, swirling metallic silver spirals etched into the overly golden color at the corners of eyes that changed hue depending on his stylists' mood; Electra wasn't exactly certain what their true color even was. His attire was outrageous; a hot pink suit coupled with silver undershirt and platform boots that made up for his severely lacking height. Really, she had once thought he had the potential to be handsome, if he hadn't twisted and transformed his features in so many ways that they would never be capable of returning to their original bone structure again.

Kozmo Steel was someone she tried to avoid often, given his penchant for nosiness and his inability to keep his yapping mouth shut. But the slimy little man was always lurking around the next corner or hidden in shadow, looking to snatch up bits of gossip and scandal around the Capitol that he could broadcast before all the others.

Putting it simply, being Panem Royalty and one of his most favorite targets to pursue, she quite possibly hated him. And she had a sinking feeling that predisposition would only increase in its potency after the show.

"It's a big, big day in our wonderful Capitol and across Panem's Districts as Reaping Day kicks off our seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games!"

He flashed a beaming smile, his sharp teeth on display as he clapped enthusiastically, and she felt her stomach curl in revulsion.

"Now, while most of us have been captivated by this year's pickings – yes, I mean you, hunky District Two! – or the heartstopping declaration of the District Twelve female tribute's call to volunteer, there are even more exciting things afoot under our noses in the city! Electra Snow, proclaimed Golden Girl of the Capitol and niece to our very own President Snow, graced us with her presence for today's televised Reaping. The blonde bombshell was seen with best friend – but not snuggle up, snuggle down buddy (or so they say!) – Slade Wolfhart, and a handful of close acquaintances in the VIP atrium of the Entertainment Hall. Dressed in a striking silver number, no doubt the work of personal stylist Cinna, the nineteen year-old made quite the impression as she showered the Capitol's public with glittering smiles and indulgent photo-op's."

Bright blue eyes darted up to catch said best friend's clenching jaw and fists as he glared at the pixilated creation, his nostrils flaring.

"While this may come as no surprise, it is what the young Elite Capitolian was up to mere hours later that has me itching for answers! Sources say, Electra was seen without her usual company (brother, Orion Snow and previously mentioned, Slade Wolfhart) as she perused High Fashion's Walk shortly before stopping off at a popular wine and dine for a bite to eat. And who was she meeting, you ask? Well, I could keep you guessing but I'll simply indulge you instead- the Capitol's Head Gamemaker, one Seneca Crane!"

Electra's face paled dramatically, turning her ivory skin tone a pallid color.

She cringed back into her seat when the sharp sound of glass shattering pierced her ears, silver eyes that had turned to molten, smokey depths burned into her gaze as Orion's heavy hand landed on her knee, giving it a firm squeeze, almost holding her in place.

"The two were said to share an intimate conversation and after dinner drinks –captured images can be found on the interactive tab below, my lovelies!– before Mr. Crane saw the young lady off, though not without stopping to adjust her furs and deliver a lingering kiss to her temple first! Both Seneca and Electra have been witnessed in conversation at many events before, but nothing quite like this. It begs the question, is our Princess Snow soon to be courted? Or were the two figureheads simply catching up over a bit of Game discussion? Not to worry, ISpy will keep an attentive eye on the situation! Next up- the newest trend, live additions to your silky strands! Join me as I search out-"

The slam of a palm connecting violently with the electronic device once more reverberated throughout the room before a tense silence settled around its occupants, rife with a mixture of fury and astonishment. Two sets of piercing orbs focused on a pair that were wide in disbelief and glued to the table in front of her, their owner's jaw slackened in shock.

Seneca Crane…courting her?

Electra wanted to scream in outrage but the stunning revelation of the gossip announcer's newest theory had her rooted in place, nearly unable to form a coherent thought, much less a physical reaction. She could feel the searing gazes of both her brother and friend, like a heavy weight upon her skin, but she couldn't seem to lift her head or speak a single word of rebuttal that might ease their frustration.

The crash of the holo-pad shattering against the far wall made her gasp. Her head snapped upright, striking blue eyes opened wide and startled.

"Crane?!" Slade nearly snarled, his teeth glinting in the light as he bared them.

Electra shuddered as his icy tone swept across her skin, a confused scowl twisting her lips as she peered back at him. "It's a lie, you already know that Kozmo Steel will say just about anything to garner attention! The man is practically twice my age, my god!"

The pair glared hotly at each other, ignoring Orion's exasperated sigh.

He smoothed his finger along his brow line with both his thumb and forefinger, tracing the line of his angular cheekbones before pinching his nose as he shook his head. The frosted blonde wanted nothing more for the evening than to gain the answers he sought, preferably without watching on as his little sister and best friend spiraled down into a heated confrontation. Electra had her pride, and Slade allowed his emotions to fuel his aggression; it made for a diabolical duo or a disastrous verbal sparring if left out of control.

"Explain the fucking photos then, Elle!" The shadowy haired boy spat as he advanced a single step toward her, unaware of when he had gotten to his feet. "The two of you looked awfully cozy together, after all."

She let out a shriek that reached cringe-worthy decibels, lurching forward suddenly in an attempt to rise to her feet, so that she might close the space between them. The desire was thwarted however when a warm, restraining hand landed on her shoulder palm-side down, firm fingers curling over her collarbone as they forced her back into the plush cushions of the couch she was seated upon.

"Calm yourselves," Orion hissed, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. "The both of you!"

They each folded back into their seats after staring at each other a moment longer, the picture something akin to scolded children; Slade's fury reduced to a simmer while Electra's indignant tenacity seeped from her veins, leaving her slumped and exhausted against her brother's side. She let out a long sigh, working her fingers absently through the wind tousled strands of her hair that had settled upon her arrival.

"Now," Orion began, easing into the leather at his back as the tension in the room dimmed. "Why the hell were you sitting down with Crane, anyway? You know he cannot be trusted."

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, an action that did not go unnoticed by her companions.

While she knew both the men in her life would be obviously relieved to hear that the short meeting with the Capitol Gamemaker had nothing at all to do with any romantic inclinations, Electra was more than aware both Orion and Slade would be equally irritated that she had dared to bargain with the slippery man. For now, the idea of posing Cinna as District Twelve's new stylist looked and seemed simple enough at face value, the royal niece of the country only wanted to add a bit of flare to this year's set of games, a benefaction to the public some might say.

Lurking underneath that sensational subterfuge though, was something else. The two would easily see it for more than what simpleminded and uninformed others would.

"Elle…"

The tone left little room for refusal and, rolling her eyes with a quiet huff of air, she finally caved.

"I may have called in a favor."