There's a healer already waiting as she leaves. Sitting on a bed in the infirmary is a painstakingly long wait. They pick out the glass shards, spread creams over her wounds. It takes less than half an hour, and when they hold up the mirror for her, Katniss' face is already smooth and perfect once more. There's not a single blemish on her skin.
But the rage beneath hasn't died down yet. It's still burning her up. It feels like a fever that will not break. Katniss pushes past the doctors back to the training rooms, shaking off the last glass shards still stuck to her clothes as she walks.
She signals to an Avox who runs off to interfere with the videos. The training center floors are about to have a lapse in video monitoring due to an overuse of power to keep the force field running. The training room door can barely open fast enough as Katniss slips inside. Everyone stops what they're doing, watching her storm through the room to the archery station.
She'll show Plutarch Heavensbee that she's not some weak little girl he can manipulate. She's a fighter, a survivor, a killer like anyone else in the room and with a much higher body count. The rebels can't have her, and they will never control her.
Not like her grandfather can.
Grabbing the right sized bow she throws a quiver of arrows across her shoulders, securing it tight as the reinforced glass doors open. The program is set on low difficulty, so she changes it to the highest setting. The hologram lights spin wildly, keeping her on full alert until the first attacker comes.
Then she's shooting. One in front, then behind, all with weapons and it will only take a single hit for her to lose the simulation. She ducks, turns, fires straight and up and aims at each opponent in the scant seconds available between life and death.
It lasts a minute or two at best, and she's sweating already by the end. Katniss can hear her heartbeat pounding and feel the thrill that comes from the surviving pumping through her veins. She counted eight holograms falling to her arrows.
The air fills with applause. Katniss spins to the door, panicking at the sight of the tributes standing on the other side watching. She freezes like a rabbit caught in the path of a wolf, unsure of how to proceed – heart beating frantically in her chest. Plutarch is standing there as well, hands tucked in his pocket and a satisfied smirk on his face. She's done exactly what he wanted. Foolish little queen.
That makes up Katniss's mind. She takes off the quiver as she walks back out, thrusting both quiver and bow into his chest as he rushes to grab them before they fall. Katniss leans in close, scowling at him as she growls out, "We are not on the same side."
His smirk falls. Katniss turns to go only to find little Primrose standing in her way. "That was amazing! Where did you learn to shoot like that?" She's walking backwards as Katniss tries to walk forwards, keeping in the elder girl's path as Katniss sighs.
"My father was a hunter."
"Really?" This excites the girl to no end. "My father is a hunter too! I mean – well," She obviously knows that hunting is illegal but not that Katniss is perfectly aware of Prim's father hunting illegally in district 12. "I thought your father would be a politician or something."
Katniss nearly trips on her own feet and she does trip over her own words. "I… well… um…" She doesn't have an answer to that. She doesn't even know where the original statement came from. "I guess he was? I don't remember…"
Prim frowns at that. "But how can you remember he was a hunter then?"
"I don't know, I just know." Katniss mutters.
"What about your mother?"
A healer, Katniss wants to say, but she knows that's not right. Instead she shrugs. "This isn't appropriate conversation."
"It's not appropriate for you to be down here either."
Katniss actually stops and looks down at the girl. "And who's to say that? I'm Head Gamemaker and the President's granddaughter. I can do whatever I want."
"Even stop the games?"
She knows the other tributes have followed them out of the archery station and started to split off whilst hovering close enough to hear, but now they all go silent. Who can feign ignorance when she's holding their lives in her hands?
Katniss scowls for a moment, before shaking her head. "I can't do that."
"Why not?"
Why does she have to ask so many questions? "Because these aren't my games." Wait no – she's not supposed to say that.
Prim doesn't let it go though. "But you designed it and you control it."
"Actually it was Plutarch who came up with the idea for this Quarter Quell. I just improved the arena and came up with all the things that will kill you." She means it to scare the girl off, but for some reason the little bird won't fly away.
"What was your idea?"
The kid is clever. Katniss has to give her that. "What makes you think I had a different idea?"
"Because you obviously hate Mister Heavensbee's idea." Prim smiles sweetly, all puppy dog eyes and pig tail braids. She looks so much younger than her age like that, and Katniss would bet the capitol that Prim's stylists and mentor do that on purpose. Everything about Prim says she's too young and innocent to be brutally slaughtered for a game.
Katniss gritted her teeth for a moment, glancing around for Plutarch who is leaning against the side of the entrance hall just waiting to see what she says. He's never even heard her idea before. She figures she'll tell it just to spite him, the rebel sending people to die when lives could have been spared.
Looking down at Prim Katniss can't decide whether to smile or grimace at the sweet face. She drops her voice low, stooping a bit to come closer to eye level.
"My design was for the first games where no tributes would have to die… a show of mercy from the Capitol." Katniss reaches into one of the inner pockets of her blazer for her Holo pad. It's already unlocked, so she brings up the secure file containing the 75th Hunger Games original designs and inputs the two further passwords required as she keeps talking. "Of course, there would have to be death. It was inspired by my mutt actually, the idea that each tribute would work together with a mutt and once it died or was killed then the tribute would be disqualified.
"I had it all planned out, all my mutts, all my tributes, right down to my victor and arena changes – though I can't show you that part obviously since the structural design is obviously the same. I can show you these." Katniss nearly winces at the slipped admission of her chosen victor, but Prim doesn't seem to notice.
She spins the Holo pad around to show Prim, watching as delight springs onto the girl's face that actually makes Katniss smile. "They're so pretty!"
Katniss has never had a problem with praise before, but Prim's continued comments as she scrolls through the mutts – the beautiful ones and the deadlier looking – make her uncomfortable. She shouldn't be interacting with the girl at all, but she can't help herself.
A little voice of fear echoes in her mind, warning that she's exposing her throat to be cut, softens her heart just in time for a deadly blow. There is no room for this kind of weakness in the capitol. She cannot afford this kindness.
"What's your mutt like?"
Katniss almost doesn't answer, but the cameras are off and for once she wants to feel human instead of like a monster. She takes back the Holo pad, bringing up her saved photos and scrolling through to a picture of Griffin. "She's a mix between cat and bird. Her name is Griffin."
Prim's eyes are wide as saucers. "She's so cute! And tiny!"
Katniss grins, "Part of the bird portion."
"And she has wings," Prim looks like a child in a candy store for the first time. "Can she fly?"
"No," Katniss replies a bit sadly, taking the Holo pad back and tucking it away. "She can't fly."
"I miss my cat. His name is Buttercup, he's yellow and really fat and furry."
She knows, she's seen the cat before on video feed. It's an ugly little thing. Katniss would have adored to have it growing up. As it is she suspects had she grown up with any cat not part bird they wouldn't have gotten along in the slightest. She always got along better with birds than cats.
"Hmm, well," Katniss fidgets. There's a clapping sound from the doorway, an Avox warning her that the cameras are soon to be back on. "Back to the natural order then." She turns without another word to Prim, glancing at Heavensbee. "Better get out Plutarch, the clapping is the warning bell."
His confusion is only momentary as he hurries to catch up and slip out of the room. "You had the cameras off?"
"You think I'd do anything I did in there if I thought the cameras were on?"
He's contemplative for a moment. "It's impressive. I didn't think you could do things like that."
"Careful Heavensbee, you're negating all those pretty compliments from earlier." She cuts away, done observing for today. Training is almost done for the night anyways and she needs to do damage control.