Chapter 30: Of Butterflies and Snakes
Training Day 1, the Capitol
Venatrix got herself up the next morning before anyone came rapping at her door, sunlight prodding her eyelids open through the wall she'd allowed to remain a window. Toggling with the settings her mother had previously shown her, Venatrix adjusted the display to something akin to a two-way mirror, allowing her a view of the city as she dressed while remaining opaque to those outside the building.
Sliding open the closet doors, she found three sets of identical black athletic wear. Each shirt bore the number '2' on the shoulders and back, red accents slicing the short-sleeved shoulders along the middle, racing down the legs of the matching pants. Assuming this was her designated training gear, Venatrix swiftly donned the outfit, sweeping her hair into a messy knot. She met Percy in the common area along with the Victors, though none of the Capitolites were anywhere to be seen. Venatrix was somewhat relieved at that; she didn't need them distracting her on a day this important.
Her parents greeted her with reflexive smiles and half-tired eyes; if Oberon noticed the way she seated herself between him and Percy yet again, he didn't say anything.
Despite how drained she'd been at the tail end of yesterday, Venatrix found herself eager for training to start, her mind slipping into a similar alertness she usually wore for her mornings at the Academy. She'd wager Percy felt the same, judging by his bright eyes. They'd had enough of the confines of the District Two suite; punctuality would hardly be a crime.
Dinner with the Careers was one thing, but arriving early to training actually held an advantage, as indicated by Venatrix's discussion with her father last night.
After sharing a short breakfast, Venatrix and Percy stood to leave, but Dagmara intercepted them, sitting Venatrix down and yanking the tie from her hair. Percy waited dutifully as her mother plaited her hair into two neat braids down her scalp, sacrificing her own hair tie for the cause. Giving her daughter a quick pat on the cheek, Dagmara sent them off.
Venatrix noted the empty lift car when it arrived, wondering if any of the other tributes had gotten there first; it didn't pause to pick up the Ones on the way down either.
Heads turned at the elevator bell once the doors opened to the basement floor, belonging to the gathering of trainers still readying their stations and the pair from Three, already engaged in a stretching routine. They exchanged a look of mild surprise before greeting their allies, though Venatrix's immediate focus was captured by the expansive gymnasium behind them, the sheer array of weapons lining the walls. Harsh fluorescent light glinted off the tips of spears, arrowheads, and deadly blades of her preferred longswords alike, demanding her attention. "Nice, isn't it?" Grethel said as Venatrix eyed the rack of swords longingly.
"Makes our Academy look like a garage," she huffed.
It was true; the Capitol may provide Two with most of its equipment, but it clearly saved the best for itself.
Judging by their sheen of the weapons, however, Venatrix doubted any of them had been used for anything more than a test swing; not a single crackle of wear appeared in any of the corners of the sparring mats lining the floors either. The ranged weapons sat innocently on one side of the gym, itching to be launched towards human-shaped targets yet-unmarred by impact scars of lethal projectiles; practically criminal.
Predictably, the archery station drew Percy's gaze as much as the swords captured hers, her friend practically drooling over them like a long-lost lover as they stretched.
On the opposite end of the gym, survival stations lined the walls, interspersed by a ropes course that crawled up the high ceiling like a cobweb, in clear view of the Gamemakers' box. Another towering wall had been dedicated to a rock-climbing station, handholds jutting from the imitation crags at what was clearly a beginner's level on one half, the other far more Venatrix's speed. A running track circled the floor of the gym, wisely skirting the ranged weapons, though the infamous obstacle course known as the gauntlet dominated the center of the area, each beam of varying height manned by a trainer gripping a padded blunt.
Overseeing the scene, the Gamemakers lurked above in their perch, separated from the plebeians by what looked like empty air. Venatrix recognized the face of the Head from last year's various interviews; Killian Aquila certainly looked comfortable at the top, detached yet ever-confident.
Arm slung over her head, Venatrix pulled lightly at the muscle, ignoring the 'Makers in favor of the incoming outer-district kids beginning to filter onto the gym floor.
The Sevens gave them a wide berth, as did the majority that followed, though their fellow Careers dutifully flocked towards them. To Venatrix's surprise, the Ones arrived separately, the lift doors opening consecutively to spit out Viper, then Mariposa, as if he'd purposely left her behind. If this bothered the One girl, she made no show of it, taking a position near Venatrix and Percy to begin her stretches.
The door pinged again; up close, some of the little ones looked even smaller, barely capable of holding a sword of the caliber Venatrix preferred. Even Bellara, though she'd been considerably shorter than her older sister, had possessed the strength to wield the battleaxe she'd trained with. Little Paprika of Eleven on the other hand, or Genera of Five…
'They can't be kids, do you understand? They're obstacles.'
"—well, the sooner we kill them all, the sooner I get to go home." Viper's haughty tone cut through the memory of her father's words.
For once, his district partner gave him an appreciative once-over. "You? Going home?" Mariposa's lips curled into a smirk. "And here I thought you didn't have a sense of humor."
Viper scowled at the chorus of oooh's from the Fours; even the Thirteen boy, who'd been standing close enough to overhear, glanced over, grinning. "Damn, she got you there, Snake-Eyes."
Said eyes glared daggers in the direction of the brazen Zavian. "You'll be first," Viper hissed in response. "Sewer rat."
"If anyone's the rat, it's you," Mariposa supplied, and Venatrix bit her lip to hide her snicker.
The Thirteen boy didn't bother, releasing an easy chuckle. "Aye, rat bros!" he gibed, raising a hand for a high-five.
Predictably, Viper barely granted him a scowl, his glare now reserved only for his district partner. "Nobody wants your opinion, you little slut," he scoffed. At that, Venatrix exchanged a raised brow with Percy, the other tributes in earshot doing the same; Zavian lowered his hand.
"Wow, very creative," Mariposa sneered. "Though I guess I shouldn't expect much from someone who's only here because of his daddy's money."
Viper's lip curled, hackles raised. "Well, my—"
"Enough," Venatrix cut in sharply; she fixed the Ones with a stern glare, effectively silencing them.
At the front of the group of tributes, the head trainer cleared her throat. "Nice to see you're all getting along," she said sardonically before introducing herself as Flora and launching into a detailed explanation of what the tributes should expect from the next three days. Venatrix only gave her half an ear, paying more attention to her peers.
Wisely, most listened intently, especially the little ones, though the Thirteens — the girl had appeared next to her district partner, the two lingering dangerously close to the pack — passed side comments and sniggers under their breath. The Seven boy seemed to be wearing a permanent scowl as he listened, sticking close by his district partner; on the other hand, the Eight girl continued her efforts to distance herself from hers, the once-aggressive boy merely picking mindlessly at his teeth.
Her own allies, like herself, only half-listened, save for the Threes; Venatrix caught the Fours joining in on the Thirteens' snickers, and she suppressed a sigh.
"Now, I'd like to take this time to remind you that fighting between each other is not permitted," Flora said sternly. "If you wish to spar, there are plenty of trainers here to accommodate."
"Probably smart," Percy commented, nudging her arm. "You did end up gutting Alystra at the Tournament, and she was wearing armor." He said it loud enough for the majority of the group to overhear, inducing wide eyes and blanched faces in some of the outlier kids.
Flora inclined her head. "Save that for the arena, you two." She sent them a pointed look, and Venatrix and Percy exchanged a deliberate grin.
Let the 151st annual pissing contest begin, she thought wryly, keeping track of Viper's resting sneer in her peripheral.
Once the Head Trainer concluded her speech, the tributes slowly began to disperse towards various stations; Venatrix called the attention of the pack with a sharp clap of her hands. "Alright, whoever's not warmed up, get on it quickly, and then we spread out; I think there are enough of us to occupy the majority of the ranged and melee stations—"
Viper's derisive tone cut her off. "Who died and made you pack leader?"
Burying her nagging ire at the challenge — unwelcome, though not entirely unexpected, given the faces the One boy had shown so far — Venatrix only raised a brow, outwardly unfazed. "Is this not what we discussed last night?"
"'We'?" Viper's expression matched hers; evidently, he'd noticed her fatigue yesterday evening as much as Percy had. Venatrix cursed internally; she'd have to be more careful.
Percy backed her up. "It was." The others nodded along.
"Anyways, like I said, everyone to your best weapons stations—" Venatrix paused, counting an extra head in their group. "Aye; get out of here, Thirteen," she snapped.
A grinning Zavian detached himself from the group, throwing her a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am."
Venatrix's eyes narrowed as he strolled off to bother the ungainly Eight boy; the pair from Three exchanged an amused glance while Viper only huffed. Venatrix cleared her throat. "Alternate between a few stations, then we regroup for lunch," she finished, and they broke, peeling off to their preferred weapons.
Predictably, the Fours made a beeline for the polearms, Idris to his tridents and Patience to the next-door spear station. Percy's presence effectively chased the hopeful-looking Twelve girl from the archery station; she took shelter next to her frowning district partner by the edible plants, unable to look away as Percy fired off shots more accurately than she could ever hope for, infamous tribute history be damned. Though far less intimidating in stature, Grethel similarly scared off the Five girl from the knife-throwing range, though her district partner was not so easily phased, if equally untalented.
The rest of the pack headed for the swords, though the station itself took up enough space on the gym floor for them to spread out. "Figures," Viper clipped when both he and Venatrix reached for the same longsword.
"Would've pegged you as a rapier guy, if I'm being honest," Venatrix said, gesturing for him to take the sword.
He plucked it from the rack with a roll of his eyes, looking pleased with himself. "Oh, please; rapiers are for people who can't handle real swords."
Ironically, Venatrix could recall her father expressing a similar sentiment on more than one occasion. If she remembered correctly, Viper's mentor had fought with a rapier; she had no doubt the One boy was well aware.
Selecting a similar sword, Venatrix slid into a mindless set of warm-up drills while Viper flagged down the sword-fighting trainer. As much as she itched to show off her own skills, she knew Oberon had been right to remind her of just how much she could get out of these training days. There'd be plenty of time to intimidate the Bloodbath fodder later; besides, she was curious whether Viper measured up to her level— or not.
Venatrix didn't bother to hide her stare, content to put the pressure of her judgement on the auburn-haired boy's shoulders.
Despite her — or perhaps, in spite of her — he fought well against the trainer, quick and biting like his namesake. To the untrained eye, it certainly looked impressive, the way he wrenched his opponent's weapon from their grip with a flourish and a sneer, though to Venatrix, his movements seemed almost too fast; hasty, even.
One of the earliest things her father had drilled into her mind when she'd first picked up a sword was never to rush her attacks. Sacrifice her form for a semblance of speed and she'd lose sight of her control over her weapon, the flow of her motion; speed would come with practice and discipline, he'd said. And sure enough, it had, laced through with fluidity and control.
And that was everything; hell, her weapon was pretty much the only thing she could control.
A brutal offense would be the way to go if she ended up in combat against him; disrupt his flow and the rest would be a piece of cake. Venatrix opened her mouth, intending to give the One boy an honest assessment, but she stopped herself in time— the last thing she needed to do was help him. No doubt that would cause unnecessary drama anyways.
Instead, she fed his ego with a small compliment; she'd only benefit from Viper's overestimation of his skill in the long run. Satisfaction colored his face, though a deeper one wormed its way into her gut; he'd have to be lucky to beat her. Lucky or clever.
"Your turn, Victor's girl," Viper said, the air of superiority heavy in his tone.
Briefly acknowledging him, Venatrix hefted her weapon. The pomp and circumstance of the Capitol had been an interesting change of pace, but the weight of a sword… now, that almost felt like home. With the blade in hand, it was easier to remember her goal, her path forwards.
The one she'd need to carve through the lives of the twenty-five kids surrounding her, her best friend included.
(It was simpler just to think about the sword.)
The too-shiny weapon in question yearned to sing against the blade of another — though, maybe that was just her — and Venatrix beckoned to the trainer.
As much as she'd been watching Viper during his match, she'd also been watching the Capitolite, knowing she'd be fighting him soon enough. Her muscles tensed with eagerness as she slid into a ready stance, twirling her sword. She shoved down the jitters of anticipation that would make her movements erratic and uncontrolled; performing under pressure was hardly unfamiliar.
At his mark, Venatrix sprang into action; she could've been back at the Academy for all it felt like, the quick exchange of parries and strikes a step she could dance in her sleep. Though, no one at the Academy dared to fight with this much inertness in their swings; to the trainer, this had clearly never been more than a game. With a quick flick of her sword, she batted her opponent's out of the way before landing a finishing strike to his chest, ending the match far sooner than she'd expected and only with as much flashiness as she'd needed to win. "You've got nothing at stake, do you?" Venatrix said to the trainer, keeping her curiosity passive.
The man shrugged, telling her all she needed to know. "This is my job, but—" he gave the two Careers a wink— "we're really just here to make you guys look good."
Hm. Nobody could learn to wield a sword as she could in three days, nor were they expected to. Venatrix supposed that losing a sparring match to one of the trainers would strip the intimidation factor from a Career pretty quickly, though she couldn't shake her irritation at the notion; it seemed like the kind of thing that would come around to bite her in the ass.
Viper, however, only shrugged. "I'll take it."
Perhaps she should be thanking the trainer after all; at the telltale prickle on the back of her neck, Venatrix instinctively swiveled her head to catch the eyes of the pair from Eleven, currently occupying the fire-starting station. The boy quickly broke contact, nudging his round-eyed district partner back to their task, and Venatrix watched steadily as the pair — Starling and Paprika — managed to set a small blaze. Sure enough, Starling looked up again to catch her stare, though again, his eyes flicked away just as quickly. They can't be kids.
"Lots of Bloodbath material this year, huh?" Viper said, following her gaze.
Is he actually like this, or is he just putting up a front? Venatrix wouldn't put either past him, but she only hummed in agreement; as disagreeable as she found him, she wanted the One boy where she could see him. Viper turned back to the trainer, snapping his fingers to get the man's attention.
Not finding much use in watching him fight again, Venatrix let her attention wander around the gym. The Sevens had been the only ones brave enough to work at one of the few empty weapons stations — axes, of course — though only the boy, Ochre, seemed to possess his district's trademark skill with the weapon. The Five boy, Valkan, had moved on to join the pair from Thirteen at the rock-climbing station, where Zavian was racing the brooding Eight boy to the top. The girl, Veylani, watched impatiently, hands at her hips, and Venatrix narrowed her eyes. She didn't find that particular group reassuring, not at all.
Percy, at the other end of the gym, hadn't left his archery range yet, to the quiet irritation of some of the outliers — Eight girl, Nine girl, pair from Ten — and Venatrix doubted he would anytime soon, judging by the look of concentration on his face.
Further down the sword-fighting station, Shannon was finishing up a bout with a trainer, quick and precise with the placement of his blade. He easily knocked the trainer to the floor, though he immediately offered them a stiff hand up. On the sidelines, Mariposa's keen eyes tracked the movement, though she granted the Three boy a pleasant smile as she changed places with him.
Venatrix watched with curiosity as Mariposa began circling the trainer, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. She gripped two sleek-looking katanas in her hands, painting an impressive silhouette as she twirled them in preparation.
Without warning, the trainer shot forwards, but Mariposa expertly dodged, so light on her feet she could be floating. As if she'd heard Venatrix's thoughts, the girl leapt into an airborne twist over the incoming horizontal swipe of the trainer's sword, and Venatrix blinked in surprise; she landed effortlessly, catching the opposing sword on one blade and charging forward with the other. The trainer barely dodged her strike, but Mariposa wasn't perturbed, dancing around her enemy's sword with light-footed cartwheels.
Despite her grace, there was something almost predatory in the One girl's movements, her near-frenetic flash of teeth; showy and acrobatic, sure, but nothing less than absolutely lethal.
The fight itself dragged like a torturer's knife: longer than necessary, but completely enthralling; Venatrix couldn't look away. In fact, the longer it went on, the more impressed she became. Mariposa appeared nearly weightless in her waltz, though Venatrix knew such acrobatics took an incredible amount of energy to maintain. When the One girl missed an obvious opening, Venatrix got the impression she was drawing out the fight on purpose, toying with the trainer to show off her range of skills. This was a performance as much as a sparring match, a display of showmanship and stamina, and through it all, Mariposa left no room for her opponent to score a single hit.
As she'd done with Viper, Venatrix imagined herself in opposition to the One girl, how she'd swing her own sword to counter Mariposa's attacks.
The only trainee back home who'd wielded dual katanas had been Olympia, one of Alystra's friends, but nowhere near this level. Even in her deliberation, Mariposa's blades moved as an effortless extension of her body; Venatrix doubted defeating her would be a simple task, especially when they got down to the nitty-gritty of the arena, all rules swept off the table. Venatrix wanted to win, obviously, but almost as badly, she wanted to fight, to prove herself a Victor without question, as her parents had done and Bellara had strived to do. Victory served on a silver platter hardly counted for anything, however strongly people like Viper begged to disagree.
If she were going to win, she damn well better deserve it.
A petulant scoff at her side alerted her to the fact that Viper must've finished his duel. "Look at her; all for show." Something flashed in his narrowed eyes, too quickly for Venatrix to determine whether it was loathing or jealousy. "She won't last against either of us."
"She's incredible," Venatrix countered genuinely, making an effort to keep the bite from her tone.
Viper's scowl deepened, though, unexpectedly, it shifted into a look of concern. "Venatrix." Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from the One girl. "We need to be careful around her. I'm not an idiot; I know none of you are very inclined to trust me…"
Venatrix acknowledged his assessment with a nod; she noted the 'we' as well, a stark departure from his antagonistic behavior this morning.
"But I've known Miss Fonesca for a while," he continued. "She's not nearly as sweet as she looks."
Neither was Percy, but Venatrix wasn't about to clue the One boy in on that. "I could see that for myself," she said neutrally; swordsmanship aside, Mariposa seemed to relish every opportunity to verbally insult her district partner, and vice versa. "I don't think anyone here is as sweet as they look, except maybe the Spice Girls over there." She nodded towards where the Elevens had migrated to join Rosemary from Twelve at the plants station.
Viper ignored her attempt at humor. "I'm serious. She'd just as soon kill you as kiss you."
"Speaking from experience?"
"As if." His nose wrinkled in disgust. "She's one of the scholarship girls." His gaze returned to Mariposa, still locked in combat; she dodged the trainer's strike with an aerial somersault, landing gracefully in a crouch before springing seamlessly back into action.
Venatrix frowned. "What's wrong with that?"
Two's Academy had plenty of scholarship kids as well — Percy and Coquina notable among them — accessible to any with the drive and talent to fight in the district's honor. Even her father had attended his last few years on scholarship back in the day.
She didn't mistake the brief flare of irritation that marred Viper's features, as if he shouldn't have to explain. "It means," he emphasized with a sneer, "she thinks she can whore her way to Victory with no regard for the honor of the Games, just as she did for the volunteer spot." Venatrix frowned at the accusation, and he fixed her with a pointed look. "I, for one, don't intend to let her."
A loud grunt interrupted them as the girl in question finished her sparring match, the trainer lying prone on the floor beneath her blade and her foot. Mariposa's head turned towards the pair, as if she could feel them staring, passing her name between their lips; Venatrix tried not to let the chagrin color her cheeks.
"Just remember what I said, alright?" Viper muttered as Mariposa started towards them, and he stalked off, though not before shooting his district partner a glare.
Mariposa didn't bother reciprocating, content to ignore him, though Venatrix noticed the discomfort in her tensed shoulders, the defensiveness written in the angle of her chin. Venatrix opened her mouth as the One girl hung up her pair of swords on the nearby weapons rack, but Mariposa spoke first, her voice deliberately toneless. "Let me guess; he was telling you I'm a useless harlot, wasn't he?"
Right on the nose. "He was trying, but I have eyes, you know."
Mariposa's smile flickered, turning away from Venatrix to study the gleaming array of swords; uncertainty didn't look natural on her. "I'm actually glad to be here with him."
Frowning, Venatrix tilted her head in curiosity.
"He's never had to fight for anything in his life." Her half-smile was back. "Training is one thing, but it's not enough. It doesn't count if you can just skate along every year." She shrugged, tapping her fingers against the hilt of a katana. "Sure, the chance I win is small, but Viper? No way in hell. And I'm not just saying that because I hate him."
Venatrix shifted under the girl's acute gaze. "Well, they certainly don't pick Victors based on how rich and famous your parents are."
The One girl tilted her head in acknowledgement, blonde hair falling from her once-tight ponytail. "Gives me a better chance than him," she said, pulling the tie from her tail to redo it. "You, though…"
Leaning against her sword, Venatrix let out a huff. "I don't know, I've never seen anyone fight like that." She jerked her chin towards the mat where the poor trainer still hadn't quite recovered. "Not in Two, at least. It's exceptional."
Mariposa blinked in surprise. "That's… kind of you to say," she said cautiously.
"I'm serious. It would be an honor to fight you."
The pause in conversation lasted a hair too long, enough for Venatrix to feel her face flush. What a dumb thing to say. Finally, Mariposa laughed, half a smile. "I guess I should be glad that you of all people already see me as a threat."
"Ah— that's not what I…" But wasn't it, though? Hadn't she just argued that exact case with Viper? "Well, yeah; you definitely are."
"Thanks, Vee."
"Most, uh." Venatrix's breath slipped in a cough. "Most people just call me Trix."
Mariposa only chuckled. "I'm not most people," she said, her grin morphing into a little half-smirk that kept Venatrix in place until the lunch bell sounded.
true vengeance 151 . weebly . com
A/N: Cannot emphasize enough how much Mariposa and Viper want to kill each other with weapons hjhjffh. Thoughts on those two..? (Obviously the chapter title was for them lmao)
..I should not be doing fanfiction things when I have so much gotdarn homework but. This has been sitting in my computer for a while so. Have at it, kids. Next one will... probably not be for a while, unfortunately ): ..Before christmas would be nice though lmao. Anyways, if u see me on here, shoot me on sight, or leave a nice comment bc that might be my saving grace hjfdhfd. See you uh.. around ;-;
- Nell