Imperia Bachmann, 18
District Six Female
Being an observer was particularly difficult when Imperia was forced to confront reality head on. There were times when she had to be in the moment, not just aware from an outside perspective.
She just didn't expect meeting with her stylist to be one of those times.
The entire experience had been… enlightening, somehow. The team had scurried around her, their scrupulous attention to detail also working to point out every single one of Imperia's flaws - no matter how few she truly had. They remarked on how straight her spine was before delivering a particularly scathing comment about her height compared to her District Partner.
She didn't let herself linger on that. Instead, she shoved any thought of Jude out of her mind, even the vague sense of worry that tickled at her.
"Her skin really is perfection though," Erilia said, her tweezers still hovering mere inches from Imperia's face. "I imagine you take care of this yourself?"
Imperia raised an eyebrow at being addressed for the first time since she'd been told to take off her clothes and put on a silk robe, colored a deep purple. She'd tied it loosely around her waist, staring in disdain at the three members of her prep team as they scurried around her, almost blatantly ignoring her presence as they chose to talk about her instead of to her.
To be honest, under different circumstances she might not have minded. But Imperia knew that these Capitolites could surely be helpful somehow, she just had to figure out the right question to ask.
It would just be another game, leading up to her biggest one yet. If these degenerates could act as stepping stools on her path to greatness, they'd be worth more than they ever were back as mere stylists.
"I have a routine back home." Imperia glanced up at the stylist closest to her. "I've managed to get a few brands from the Capitol itself, the products here are simply to die for," she said sweetly.
The stylists all cooed at her, too easily wooed by her praise. Imperia had to fight to keep her lip from curling, too frustrated by her place here entirely.
She was not meant to have a barbaric end such as this, fighting it out with other children across the Districts. She wasn't an unrefined neanderthal like the rest, there was no reason for her to be here. Imperia Bachmann had always been meant for more, more, more, and now she was going to be reduced to a mere number, a meaningless child that died a meaningless death.
Her story was going to end far before it was meant to, and Imperia loathed how out of control she felt.
But what did Imperia do when she felt out of control? Well, she found a way to take it back.
Her stylists continued to shower her in compliments as they went, getting increasingly more enthusiastic as Imperia credited everything to the Capitol somehow. Her incredibly soft hair? All due to her Capitol-made conditioner, meaning she never had a tangle at all. Her finely made clothes? Stitched together with Capitol thread, of course.
It didn't matter how much of it was a lie, all that mattered was that her prep team ate it up without questioning it. Imperia had gone to school with some of the most brutish oafs she'd ever met, but these Capitolites were somehow even more gullible.
They were practically eating out of her hand by the time they finished cleaning her up and moved on to her makeup. Erilia raved about the golden undertones to her skin, Vera couldn't stop talking about the perfect shape of her eyebrows, and Dior danced around her talking about how her petite stature was the loveliest thing she'd ever seen.
"I don't think you'll need too much makeup, your complexion is lovely enough as is," Vera said, pouting as she tapped the end of the eyeliner pencil against her cheek. "You already have the cool, edgy look down, it just needs to be… refined a bit."
Imperia opened her mouth to respond, but Dior cut in, waving her snakeskin-patterned arms in the air. "We got so lucky with Six this year, imagine if we'd been stuck with Three or Eight again!"
Erilia tried to shush the girl, who looked dejected at being quieted. "I'm sure Imperia doesn't want to hear about any of that," she chided the girl.
But oh, was she wrong. Imperia did want to hear all about it, she wanted to hear everything these measly stylists could tell her. As long as a person was of use to her, they were worth something, and right now her prep team was worth their weight in gold to Imperia.
"I'd love to hear more," Imperia said with a smile, looking at Dior. "What's wrong with Three and Eight?"
To her delight, Dior's entire face lit up at the chance to keep talking. "Well, the Threes are always fun because their stylists have good ideas, but this year they're both just… so small. I heard the boy fell on his way in, and the girl nearly burst into tears at the prospect of having to get undressed in front of everyone."
Vera looked up from where she was painting Imperia's fingernails black with gold tips to say, "And the Eight girl just looked so angry about everything! The poor stylist needs to be put out of his misery and just retire, but first he's probably going to make her look even worse in front of that crowd."
"That's so sad," Imperia muttered, wondering if the Three girl would be the best one to try and bring into her alliance first. "Have there been any other… mishaps?"
Erilia held up a hand before the other two could say anything, peering at Imperia's hair. "Should her hair go up or down for the Chariots?"
"I'd prefer down," Imperia responded before anyone else could. "I have a terribly sensitive scalp, you see, so I'd love a style that leaves my hair loose."
While Erilia looked mildly put out that Imperia had been the one to respond, Dior excitedly thrust the eyeliner pencil into Erilia's hands and moved behind Imperia. "I know just what to do! I'll be sure to make it so everyone's eyes are on you," she said with a wink.
Before Imperia could respond, Erilia just sighed and gripped her chin. "Keep your eyes closed for me," she instructed, her hand skillfully moving across Imperia's barely fluttering eyelids.
"There was some kind of issue with the Fives today as well," Vera said, bringing the conversation back to where it had been, much to Imperia's pleasure. "I don't know the details of it, but one of them caused a fuss over their nails."
"That's so tragic, I bet they weren't nearly as talented as you ladies," Imperia said, fluttering her eyes open as Erilia took a step back.
Erilia finally let a small smile grace her face, her eyes flickering between Imperia's eyes. "The Nines have been interesting from everything I've seen," she murmured, finally adding to the conversation. "They're who I'd put money on if my loyalty wasn't to Six."
Thinking back, Imperia remembered the equally cold eyes of the Nines and had to agree. Truthfully, she'd enjoy the opportunity to get close to either of them and pick them apart with one of her experiments, but they both seemed like loners at best. At worst, they were already on their way to find their own crowd, one that they could control.
And Imperia didn't do well with the idea of being under someone else's thumb.
"There's something off about the One girl," Dior cut in again. "Her team said she looked dazed by something."
Erilia sighed and circled around Imperia once more, examining her for nonexistent flaws, trying to keep busy. "The boy you came up with, Jude, was it?" She waited for some kind of response from Imperia, who just glanced down at her hands and hummed. "He gave his prep team a bit of trouble, they sent his stylist in early to take care of him. At least he's like you, he takes fairly good care of himself."
Dior let out a soft giggle. "I remember seeing the Ten kids, the girl was attached to the poor boy's side like some kind of leech. He didn't seem to mind, of course, probably too nice for his own good."
"And then there's always poor Makani," Vera said, and the three girls sighed together.
Imperia pursed her lips, remembering the quietest Career of the lot. Any sibling of a Victor was big news, so she'd immediately latched on to the idea of this girl. It was hard to tell this early if the Careers would rally around her or isolate her, and while Imperia was hoping for the latter, she suspected it would be the former.
"I think your stylist will be in here soon," Erilia said, beckoning the other girls away. "We've done all we can to help her now."
And indeed they had, much more than her makeup or polished skin would show. Imperia's grin was based on the knowledge she now possessed, however little it seemed to others. She wasn't one of the barbaric fools that would be running around the Arena aimlessly killing each other; she was meant for more.
Imperia was always meant to be above the rest, and if this was her last chance to go above and beyond, she'd make the most of it.
Shai Kingston, 18
District One Male
Shai fidgeted as his stylist finished adjusting the silver suit he was wearing, every movement making the material shimmer under the light. It was encrusted with gems in shades of blue and green, and he looked elegant in a way he didn't expect to. It was a different kind of District One look, where he and Alila didn't resemble the sun so much as they did the moon, radiating a softer light.
It struck him as rather odd, but he figured there had to be a reason for it.
"Don't touch your face," his stylist chided, smacking his hand away from where it was creeping towards his face to touch the gems scattered across his face like freckles.
He just rolled his eyes in response, fiddling with his long sleeves and cursing the fact he had to wear it. He felt… confined somehow, but he couldn't let himself linger on that for too long. As soon as he could get out of here, he could finally meet his future allies in person.
And that was something he was greatly looking forward to.
His stylist stepped back with a sigh, gesturing to the door with a snap of her fingers. "Don't mess it up and you'll be great out there," she said, though her voice lacked the confidence he was expecting from a stylist, especially a stylist for One.
Clicking his tongue, Shai shot her a lazy grin and said, "I'll make you proud, dear stylist," before heading out.
The halls were largely empty, a few lone members of various prep teams scurrying around collecting things before disappearing into their rooms once more. It didn't take long for him to wind his way back to the smaller waiting room, raising an eyebrow as he saw Alila already waiting for him.
Her silvery dress had sleeves that left her shoulders bare, a smattering of gems colored a smoldering red and orange across her bare skin. They had pulled her hair up, letting a few dark ringlets fall into her face, and evidently they'd caught wind of her preferred weapon as well, since she had a matching fan in one hand. The Ones were a mix of delicate and deadly, as even something as fragile as glass could cut deep.
"You took longer than I thought," Alila said, looking more reassured than she did the last time he saw her. He still couldn't put his finger on what had upset her, but he was determined to figure it out sooner or later.
In response, he just offered her a cool smile and said, "You're looking better."
He had to appreciate how well she could mask her emotions, her only response being a single raised eyebrow. He didn't mind, of course; it was all part of the long game. It was only a matter of finding weaknesses and figuring out how to exploit them.
Choosing to change the topic, Alila sighed. "It feels like we're more subdued this year."
Shai shrugged. "I figure it's because of Two."
"Why would Two be the cause of it?"
"They probably didn't want to fight for the spotlight and chose a different approach. It's not like we're disappointing, just… softer." He wrinkled his nose as he said it, poking at one of the blue gems on his outfit. Fake, of course. Such a shame, but only because Shai would have gotten a kick out of tearing apart this outfit for the gems.
Alila hummed before responding. "So, who do you think the spotlight will be on?"
"Why ask when you already know?" Shai shot back. "Two, you know it as well as I do. If we aren't careful, they'll steal the whole show before we can say otherwise."
He couldn't help but notice the slight twitch of Alila's jaw and grinned to himself. Even the most stubborn of District One tributes couldn't deny that they wanted the spotlight to themselves every once in a while, and it was hard to give that up.
"So what? Makes it easier for one of them to control the pack, and then we don't have to worry about that target on our backs."
Shai opened his mouth to answer before closing it again, turning to the opening a few moments before the Fours walked in, dragging Alila's attention that way as well.
Makani, another shining star from what the reporters kept saying, was the more elegant of the two. Her dress had bright blues and greens with accents of white like the surface of the ocean, waves cresting all around. Shai squinted and realized that there were small pink and orange fish dancing around each other on her dress, some sort of Capitol technology making them actually move across the dress. On the other hand, Kano appeared more dangerous, his outfit changing to darker blues and purples, giving off the idea that something more dangerous was lurking in the sea.
They were quietly laughing about something, Kano's arm looped almost protectively around Makani's shoulders. They'd become friends somehow, but Shai already had the suspicion that this was a more recent development.
"Kano and Makani, right?" Shai asked, smoothly stepping forward to intercept them.
The two stared at him for a beat before Makani broke out into a grin, holding out her hand for him to shake. "That's right! It'll be great to start working together with all of you."
Shai blinked at her hand before slowly shaking it. "Great to meet you," he said. "We were just talking about who we figured would lead the pack."
"I know Kano's interested in it," Makani replied immediately, glancing up at her District Partner. "I've seen him train before, he's very good."
Kano straightened from her praise, giving her a small, genuine smile, before opening his mouth to say something.
Holding up a hand, Shai cut him off. "I think the real stars of the show are coming."
Shai had to squint as soon as the Two pair rounded the corner, as he immediately knew what the stylists were going for. There was no one that hadn't heard about the prophecy rumors at this point, so the stylists had bought into them completely. He could barely let his eyes settle on the outfits themselves, only able to take in the bright, shining gold they were both covered in. Their hands were entwined as well, their eyes glimmering brighter than any sun could solely due to the disgustingly sappy looks they gave each other.
He now understood why One had gone for a more subdued look, likely wanting to stand out by not battling for the spotlight with Two. The moon could coexist with the sun; it was much harder for two suns to outshine each other.
That being said, Shai didn't love the idea of Two taking the spotlight once again. They were all the reporters wanted to talk about after the reapings recap, the girl predicted to win and the boy who just had to be her lover. Star-crossed lovers, a tale fated to end in disaster, Shai had heard it all. They probably had as well, but they didn't seem to care about it at all.
But two suns couldn't occupy the same spot for too long. Sooner or later, one would have to burn out.
Shai just let out a wry laugh. "The sun, the moon, and the sea, huh?"
Phaedra just laughed, a pretty flush coloring her face as she gripped Justus's hand tighter, like he was a lifeline for her. Their connection seemed to be as deep as he had suspected, which made him twist his mouth into a slight frown. There was no telling what that kind of relationship would do to the dynamic of the pack, but perhaps Shai could figure out a way to use it to his advantage. Not yet, of course, he didn't need threats as large as those two coming his way just yet. Any casual onlooker could tell that Phaedra was the one to watch out for, but Justus… Shai couldn't quite put his finger on his vibes yet, but he knew there was something to watch out for, he just wasn't sure what that was.
"I'm sure we're all looking forward to showing off our skills tomorrow," Kano said, stepping forward in what was surely supposed to be some kind of show of supremacy or leadership.
To Shai's surprise, Justus was the one that responded as he leaned over to adjust the halo crown on Phaedra's head. "I was thinking it would be smart if we split up and spent most of our time on various survival stations, since that could help us figure out the Arena."
"Besides," Phaedra added, giving Justus a light smile that made Shai roll his eyes, "we'd better concentrate on what's ahead of us now. There's no use in looking that far ahead when something as big as the Parades are a more pressing issue."
"Planning ahead is what could give us the edge, and showing our strengths early will drive away competition," Kano argued, not ready to back down.
The Twos didn't seem bothered by Kano pushing back, though Shai caught the twitch of Justus's hands. Instantly, he knew that whatever way this shook out, the Twos would be in control, likely Justus if his intuition proved to be correct. It was just a matter of how it all happened.
Thinking quickly, Shai glanced between his allies once more. He couldn't target his own District Partner, as that just wasn't considered good form, he didn't need either of the Twos on him this early, and Makani just didn't have the right stench of failure lingering around her, which left…
He sidled up to Kano, who was all but baring his teeth at the Twos, clearly unhappy with the way they'd shut him down quick. He didn't even spare a glance at Shai, and Makani had already wandered away to talk to Alila.
"Don't get too worked up before the show even begins," Shai hissed low enough for the Twos to miss hearing it. "You want to leave a good impression, don't you?"
"Stay out of it," Kano muttered, his eyes darting to meet Shai's briefly.
"I'd rather not." Shai simpered and nodded his head towards the others. "If I'm gonna end up with one of you as the leader, I'd like one that can keep their cool."
That made Kano hesitate, his shoulders starting to relax even if his face was still just as tense. "Whatever. We should probably just head out so we're not last."
The others just nodded and turned to leave, clearly not waiting around for the other two members of their alliance. Makani and Alila stuck close together, and Shai figured that the pairs within the pack had already essentially been decided. There were always so many different dynamics to play around with, and he had to wonder if this one was meant for success or failure.
Smirking at the way he could practically hear Kano grinding his teeth, Shai sidled up closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "We can get back to your regularly scheduled pissing contest tomorrow during training, yeah?"
"Shut up," Kano said, knocking his hand away before beginning to follow after the rest.
Shai grinned at the way the familiar stench of failure rolled off of Kano in waves. He had to have about a million chinks in his armor, and Shai was determined to find all of them. Based on their brief interaction today, Shai already knew that Kano was getting closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of whatever was holding him together.
All he had to do was give Kano a little push.
Arcturus "Nash" Prior, 17
District Five Male
Nash twisted and turned in the mirror, looking at the glittering skyline on his outfit and pretending it had stars dotting the sky and not representations of the cities that District Five powered. He sighed and reached his hand up to his hair before quickly bringing it down again, not wanting to mess with the copious amounts of gel his prep team had used to make sure his hair stayed in place.
He instead brought his hand up to his face, examining whatever nail polish they'd put on him, claiming that it was directly from District Five itself. Apparently it was some kind of fashion staple here in the Capitol, but he didn't really mind either way. Honestly, he just thought it was neat that it could glow in the dark.
"I think you're good to go, Arcturus!" Calliope said from the side, glancing over him one last time. "Just make sure to wave and smile and you'll pick up sponsors in no time!"
"I said you could call me Nash!" he protested even as she waved him off.
"Just hurry up before they leave you entirely!"
Nash couldn't help but smile as she practically shooed him out of the room, already fond of the lady that would be coming up with all of his other outfits as well. He wasn't the biggest fan of this one, but there was certainly no real issue with it either. It was better than most years in Five, where they had to parade around in a battery or something similar. With as much factory work as there was, it's not like there were a ton of options for interesting designs.
The hallways were completely empty as he headed out, and Nash frowned as he realized he'd somehow lost track of time. He wasn't sure if this meant he was early or late, but he was more concerned about the latter so he started moving faster.
He'd only gotten a few steps before he heard someone call his name, and he whirled around to find Norrie waving at him urgently. Her curls had been somewhat tamed during her preparation, her hair lying in soft ringlets around her face. Her eyebrows were drawn together, and she waved her hand faster when he didn't immediately move.
Glancing around, Nash jogged a few steps towards her, instantly reminded of how much he towered over her. She just grabbed his arm and tugged him into one of the rooms, making him run into the wall with a soft oof.
"Did they put nail polish on you?" Norrie asked urgently, picking up one of his hands before he'd even gotten the chance to say otherwise. "Great, they put it on you, too. I'll have to figure out a way to get this off."
He held up his hands in an attempt to get her to slow down, suddenly struck by the way she reminded him of Seiren when he was explaining something Nash couldn't even hope to wrap his head around, leaving him to- well, nevermind. He had to stop thinking about Seiren; he had to get Seiren out of his mind before it all became too much.
"No need to manhandle me," he joked, watching as she rummaged around in the drawers of the (thankfully) empty room. "What's the big deal, anyway? My prep team mentioned it was made back home-"
"It's not safe," Norrie blurted out, picking up a bottle and holding it up to the light before shaking her head and putting it back in.
Frowning, Nash leaned against the wall beside her, watching as she huffed a sigh and closed the drawer before opening the one beneath it. "Not safe?"
Her hands stilled in the drawer momentarily before she started rifling through the next one. "I… yeah. It's not safe. You shouldn't wear it."
Nash blinked, wondering if that was the only explanation he'd get. She didn't seem eager to offer up another one, so he frowned down at the innocent-looking nail polish and picked at it with his finger, watching a piece flake away.
"Aha!" Eleanor held up a bottle triumphantly, her other hand grabbing a pack of cotton pads to scrub the nail polish off. She immediately got herself set up with one before moving the bottle towards Nash, beginning to furiously rub at the nail polish on her hand.
Slowly, Nash picked up the bottle and examined it, looking back at the polish that was slowly starting to disappear from Norrie's nails. "So… why are we trying to take off this cool glow in the dark nail polish?"
Eleanor paused again, glancing up at him with worried eyes. From what he could tell, it seemed like she was debating whether or not she wanted to tell him the reasoning behind their current actions. Whatever it was, he figured he hadn't earned the right to know yet. Maybe she'd tell him in due time, or maybe she wouldn't.
With a sigh, she just quietly asked, "Do you trust me?"
And, well, Nash didn't really have an answer to that besides, "Yeah. Of course."
She'd gotten most of the polish off her nails before the door opened again, the two of them freezing like they'd been caught doing something wrong. Nash froze right as he doused the cotton pad in the solution, a few drops falling on the floor.
Luckily, the intruder wasn't a stylist about to catch them in the act of removing part of their outfit. It was just a girl who looked about ready to kill whoever she came into contact with, her hands clenched at her sides and her eyes narrowed. Her lips parted in mild surprise as she noticed the two people already occupying the room before her face dropped, giving her a distinctly unamused look.
The thought prodded at the back of Nash's mind that, in a way, she reminded him of Seiren. He remembered back when Seiren was that closed off and sullen, and it made him regard this girl with a curious look. He wasn't sure exactly what made him so drawn to her, but…
"I'll meet you by our chariot," Norrie said quickly, slipping past the girl - Lilith, he finally remembered - and closing the door behind her.
Lilith stared at the closed door, appearing to resent it for some reason before sighing. She wordlessly leaned back against the wall, and Nash wondered if she intended to say anything at all.
"What's that look on your face for?" Nash asked, beginning to attempt to take off his polish as well.
Lilith's brow furrowed even further as she looked his way. "This is just my face."
He snorted quietly at that. "Come on, what's that look for? Stylist get on your nerves?"
She kicked one of her feet against the toes of her other foot, the leather boots making a dull thud when they hit each other. Sighing, she scratched at the back of her neck, and Nash realized that she was covered in feathers of some kind, resembling a bird that he couldn't recognize right away. She looked almost dangerous somehow, in a way that most Nine kids never did.
"Just needed some peace and quiet," Lilith muttered. "Though it doesn't seem like I'll get any of that here."
"Personally, I think I'm better than peace and quiet," he humbly claimed, starting to remove nail polish from his other hand.
He couldn't help but grin as he heard a small snort, even if there was no sign of amusement on her face when he looked over. "I'll have to take your word for it."
The silence stretched between them for a few long moments as Nash frowned at his nails, trying to get rid of all the remaining polish clinging to them. To his delight, however, he ended up not having to say anything else.
"Why are you taking it off?"
"I'm not sure, actually," he admitted. "Norrie told me to."
He didn't have to look up to know she was staring at him incredulously. "Because your District Partner told you to? What, are you allies or something?"
"Nope," he replied, finally tossing his cotton pad as he removed the final fleck of nail polish. "I just trust her judgement on this one."
"That doesn't make any sense," Lilith said, wrinkling her nose. "You hardly even know her, what if she's out to get you?"
Nash just shrugged. "Nah, my own District Partner? Couldn't think of any reason she'd do it maliciously and remove hers as well. Sometimes it's better to trust people blindly than to go against their advice and risk facing the consequences. I like thinking I can believe in people, even if it's something small like nail polish."
Looking over at Lilith once more, he noticed that she was frowning even more than before. She was staring dejectedly at the ground, her arms crossed over her stomach as she thought about something.
"I'm not sure if it's safe to do that," Lilith finally said, looking up at him. "There are plenty of horrible people in this world, you never know what they could want from you."
Nash hummed and nodded, thinking over her words. "I guess so, but if you convince yourself that everyone is horrible, then they will be. I'd rather give people too many chances than never give them one at all."
"Is that really a safe thing to do in the Games?"
"I'm not going to change my ideals just because my life is on the line now," Nash said, crossing his arms to mirror her. "There's every chance it could end up saving my life."
"That still seems ridiculous," Lilith huffed. "I don't see how trusting anyone in the middle of this mess could be helpful when there's death involved."
Nash glanced over at her. "Just because things are that way in Nine doesn't mean they're like that everywhere else. You should hang with me for training and see for yourself if everyone's as horrible as you make them out to be. I'll leave you to your peace and quiet if you really want."
"I'm not sure you could actually do that," Lilith muttered, a hint of something like a smile tugging at the edge of her lips. "But fine, I'll take you up on your offer."
Beaming, Nash held his hand out for her to shake. "Great! You can call me Nash, then."
Tentatively reaching out for his hand, she replied, "Lilith."
Nash shook it once before dropping their hands. "Since we're not allies, do I get to give you a nickname?"
"Definitely not."
"What about… oh! Lily bean?"
"I'll kill you."
"Aww, and I thought we were becoming friends!"
Though Lilith quickly opened the door in an attempt to mask it, Nash caught the faintest blush staining her cheeks. He couldn't help but grin, knowing that she enjoyed hearing the word friends just as much as he did. He hoped to convince her to ally with him in the end, but for now he'd settle for proving himself right.
Nash would always believe in anything, even himself.
Crush Xing
District Twelve Female
The other tributes milled around Crush, only a few giving her more than a passing glance. None met her eyes, but Crush had come to expect that. She didn't want to make direct contact with anyone like that, more than content to ward off her fellow tributes. She was already tired of being poked and prodded, her skin oddly sensitive from everything her prep team had done to it in order to make her "presentable."
Her prep team had openly stared at her for entirely too long, one of them staring in horror at her arms coated in a fine layer of dust while another nearly whimpered at the state of her tangled hair. Both of those were nothing compared to the wail that escaped the third member's mouth as she discovered the state of Crush's nails, jagged and chipped nearly beyond repair.
Absently running her hand off of the rock clutched between her fingers, Crush fought the urge to pick at her lips, to scratch at her skin, to touch any part of herself and risk ruining the art that she herself had been turned into.
She'd prepared herself to loathe the usual Twelve outfit that had popped up frequently over the last few years, the same old miner's outfit to be worn over and over again. There was no creativity to something like that, no artistic vision that could be shown off to the whole world. It was… dull and boring and lifeless in a way that art should never be.
Fortunately, Crush was not cursed with such an unfortunate outfit. Her prep team had instead painted her entire body grey, which had made her frown and wonder why they'd bothered washing her off if they were just going to cover her back up again. The prep team had quietly tittered amongst themselves as if she'd said something funny, but they quieted soon enough when Crush swatted at them with her hand and they scattered like birds.
The grey body paint had turned into jagged stones on Crush's skin, giving her the appearance of being carved from stone, as if she was one of her own creations. The stone turned to crystal in places, making her a geode that had started to crack open.
Crush paused and looked up, feeling someone's eyes on her. She soon located the source to be the Three boy, who blanched and turned away as soon as she looked in his direction. He looked sensitive enough for Crush to snap him like a twig if she wanted to, reminding her a bit of her brother.
With a sigh, she leaned back against the wall and resumed watching the tributes, shooting one last look at Three to make sure he wasn't watching her again. Her gaze briefly dipped over to his District Partner before she turned away, uninterested in the young redhead.
Gnawing on the edge of her lip, Crush tried to slow her thoughts enough to think about her last piece, wondering who would be the muse for her masterpiece. She'd blatantly ignored the recap when it came on, opting to witness everyone in person for the first time so her vision wouldn't be tainted.
If this was to be her last piece, she would let nothing taint it. Perfection was always out of reach, but maybe this was Crush's chance to seize her passion and never let it go.
But inspiration couldn't be forced, and Crush felt her frown deepen with every girl she spotted. Some were too young, others not enough, and some just… too much. None of them were right, even though she could admit to herself that if she was back home in Twelve, she would have already carved their likeness into stone, to be permanently memorialized in her backyard.
The Nine girl, a crow, walked by while being followed by the Five boy, looking as if she was trying to appear peeved but her facade wasn't holding up. Crush scrutinized her face, noting that her features were at least mostly symmetrical, but mostly wasn't good enough. There wasn't any room for error anymore, and Crush had to find the right muse before she was consumed by her own passion, drained of life like her father or left to rot like her mother.
Her eyes darted over to the Eight girl, whose stylist had attempted to reign in the chaos of a myriad of fabrics by putting them in one outfit. It was a miracle she pulled it off as well as she did, so Crush let herself linger a little more. She was tall, only a couple inches shorter than Crush, and her features were well-defined, which would nicely suit Crush's stone carvings.
The ideas were slowly starting to take shape in her mind, but as soon as she tried to concentrate on them, they slipped between her fingers like smoke. Intangible and ultimately worthless, making her sigh.
Eight just wouldn't do in the end, but maybe it was for the best. Her scowl was almost as deep as Crush's, so transferring that to stone wouldn't lead to the perfection she was aiming for.
The laugh of a Career girl caught her attention next, and Crush watched the Two girl's glowing outfit and the way it made her come alive as the sun. Crush couldn't miss the way the Two boy's arm was looped around her waist, and her laughter seemed to be just for him.
The existence of a lover wasn't something that made Crush turn away, as she'd carved the image of several girls that already had a significant other. Instead, it was the way her smile lit up solely when she was around the boy, and Crush didn't know how she'd be able to replicate that kind of emotion in her own carvings. They would always pale in comparison, and she desperately wanted to create something worthy of its inspiration.
Shaking her head, Crush got rid of those thoughts, recognizing the feeling of squeezing her rock too tight, and glanced down to see a spot of blood on the floor. She sighed and tried to relax, though she wished that she had something to carve or chip away at right now to at least vent her emotions.
No, the Two girl wasn't right either. Anyone that stifled her creative process simply wouldn't do.
Sensing another set of eyes on her, Crush scanned the room once again, this time identifying the culprit as Six, her leather jacket and boots making her look dangerous, like she was part of some kind of gang. The girl wasn't looking at her anymore, instead choosing to make a witty retort to her District Partner, who towered over the girl. Crush didn't care, instead tilting her head to the side and taking note of the girl's too-straight spine and small stature. There was something almost regal about her, but Crush couldn't say she was the proper muse either.
Perfection was so unattainable, and yet Crush couldn't help but strive for it. No one was good enough, no one was perfect enough, and yet she would continue searching, refusing to give up.
It can't be forced, Crush thought to herself as she noticed the One girl, the moon, letting herself go off of intuition this time instead of attempting to inspect her. She didn't think there was anything wrong with this one either, but her passion hadn't seized her yet, it hadn't made itself known. She longed for symmetry, and in every face she could point out some kind of flaw, whether large or small, wondering if it was too much to ask for from her fellow tributes.
With a sigh, Crush pulled away from the wall and started toward her chariot, but she soon collided with something - no, someone - and nearly knocked them to the ground. She staggered back in surprise, looking around wildly as she attempted to reorient herself.
"I'm so sorry about that, I should've been watching!"
Crush looked down and was struck dumb, her limbs freezing as if she'd been overwhelmed by the sea itself. She couldn't tear her eyes away, feeling noticed and seen by someone in a way that didn't make her skin crawl.
Unable to force out words, Crush barely managed a nod, trying to remember the name of the Four girl. It was to no avail, however, as Crush was far too invested in taking in the girl's features to try and remember something as trivial as a name.
"Oh, you dropped this!" Four said, her skirt pooling around her as she knelt down to pick up Crush's rock, her mouth pulling into a frown as she noticed the fresh bloodstain on it. "Did you cut yourself? Let me see."
Crush was enraptured by the way Four reached for her hand, frowning at the blood pooling in the cracks of her callused hands. She soon dropped Crush's hand and went to untie the thick blue ribbon that was holding up half of her hair.
"This probably won't help too much, but it's the least I could do," Four explained, beginning to wrap the ribbon around Crush's hand to stop the bleeding. "If you hide this hand in the chariot, I'm sure no one will notice!"
And then she looked back up at Crush with wide blue eyes, her earnestness endearing in every way. Crush couldn't help but pay special attention to the moles on her cheeks, her fine features suited for the art Crush longed to create.
Lifting her hand up, Crush inspected the blue ribbon tied around it. She'd probably still need some sort of bandage, but there were far more important things to deal with right now.
"Oh, and here's this back." Four held out the rock, and Crush carefully took it, their fingers brushing for the briefest of moments.
Carefully swallowing, Crush managed a gruff, "Thanks."
Four gave her a shining grin before taking a step away as the tributes were called to their chariots. "Good luck out there!"
All Crush could do was watch her leave, the dress flowing around her and giving her the appearance of having come out of the sea itself. Though her hair was loose, it was no less lovely, fluttering down her back in waves.
Crush squeezed the rock in her hand and slowly started heading towards her own chariot, looking down one last time at the ribbon around her hand.
Finally, Crush thought to herself. A muse worthy of a masterpiece.