Chapter 37: Silver Spoons
Interview Prep Day, the Capitol
Breakfast was a quiet affair. For all Venatrix knew, her father could've been Avoxed sometime in the night judging by the warning glares sent his way by Dagmara and Morwenna whenever he attempted to open his mouth.
Of course, it was only a matter of time before he disproved that theory.
"Venatrix, get changed quickly after you eat," Oberon said, taking note of her pajamas. "We'll be leaving soon."
Venatrix exchanged a confused frown with Percy. "Leaving? Where are we going?" According to Kitty's schedule, the entire day had been set aside for interview prep; as Venatrix and Percy had settled their angles long ago, she'd figured they'd have the day to themselves. "I thought we weren't allowed to leave."
"Oh!" At the other end of the table, Kitty clapped her hands together in excitement. "Well, since you've already prepared for your interviews, your parents and I organized a photoshoot session with some of the popular magazines. Everyone's just dying to see the three of you together," Kitty gushed, clearly excited at the extension to her escort duties. "And this'll do wonders for your public sponsorships, too! I think we'll have some photographers from Tribute, and Vogue Capitol…"
"It's what we did last year for Bellara," Oberon added.
Vaguely, Venatrix recalled the photographs of Bellara and her parents that had floated around the television networks just before tribute interviews. The images had filled her with a sense of relief at the time, a foolish hope that everything would turn out okay; the thought had crumbled to ash amidst the horror of watching her sister in the arena.
The news was met with an uncomfortable silence, to Kitty's apparent disappointment. Venatrix only felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, her mind running through the potential consequences this would have on her alliance, her status with her fellow tributes versus the Capitol audience. She dared a glance towards Percy; he'd pressed his lips into a thin line, tension in the set of his brow.
Venatrix cleared her throat, eyes flicking between her parents and the escort. "Wait… this isn't just for me, is it?"
"Venatrix…"
Her eyes narrowed at her father's near-patronizing tone. "That's not fair." Oberon's expression told her it wasn't supposed to be, but Venatrix didn't care. "How do you think the others are going to react when they find out about this?" she demanded. "Viper's already accused me of getting Capitol handouts; this is only going to prove him right!"
"It's the Hunger Games, not an election," Oberon snapped. "The Capitol was kind enough to set up the session for us."
Of course they approved it. But something about the edge in his tone told Venatrix that refusing the offer was not an option. "Fine. Whatever." She glanced towards Percy again, setting her silverware down on her empty plate. "But I'm not going without Percy."
Oberon scoffed. "Trixie–"
"I mean it. Either he comes, or I don't."
In her peripheral, Percy couldn't manage to cover up the brazen look of gratitude, though Venatrix's stare remained fixed on her father until he broke it with a terse sigh.
"Let him come," Dagmara interjected, cutting off her husband's likely-protest when he opened his mouth. "Chances are, this will add some pressure to your alliance, and it will be better if Venatrix doesn't have to bear the brunt of it alone." Her eyes landed on Percy, solemn. "Do you understand what that means for you, Percy?"
Free publicity– more potential sponsorships in the arena. But it would come at the risk of inciting their allies. Venatrix didn't have a choice in the matter, but Percy?
He did. It was his life at stake too.
Percy, still processing the turn of events, glanced between Venatrix and his mentor, but ultimately, it was up to him. "I understand. I'll come." It was his turn to send Venatrix a small smile of reassurance, and Venatrix felt relief wash over her, both for his choice and hers last night.
Clearly, Percy still valued their promise as much as she did.
With a flashy grin, Kitty clapped her hands again, the sound somewhat muted by her lace gloves. "Wonderful! I'm sure they'll be extra pleased to have both the first- and second-place projections!"
Everyone halted at her words, heads snapping towards the escort.
"Venatrix is projected first, right?" Oberon demanded.
"Um…" Kitty glanced at her cellular again. "Yes, she is!"
Rudely, Oberon snatched the device from her hands, nodding when he realized she hadn't been lying. "Good."
Morwenna shot him a scowl. "And how many times have they actually gotten it right?"
"They got mine right," Oberon snapped back.
Taking that as her cue to leave before the two mentors started arguing again, Venatrix pulled Percy back to the tribute quarters, and the two quickly dressed for the event. Venatrix wasn't exactly sure what to wear for a Capitol photoshoot, though she assumed that they'd be giving her something to wear, as the Academy had for her and Percy's volunteer poster shoot. That particular session had barely lasted an hour.
When they finally arrived at the nearby studio, Venatrix had a suspicion the same couldn't be said for this one.
She couldn't help feeling a little lost as they were guided into the large, open room, various sheets and backgrounds littering the area, accompanied by lamps that threw color against the smooth surfaces. Capitolites flitted about the space like bees, tossing information between each other, and Kitty seemed to melt easily into the process, briefly introducing the tributes and Victors to the retinue of photographers. Venatrix let herself be passed around from Capitolite to Capitolite before she finally landed in the hands of her stylist and prep team. "There you are, darling," Stefania said, and Venatrix felt a brief flicker of relief at the familiar face.
The three Nells were back too, as was Stefania's dog; they kept their idle chatter to a minimum as they redressed Venatrix in a light beige-pink dress, draping thin gold jewelry around her wrists, neck, fingers. The makeup they brushed across her face bore a natural yet strong tint, maturing her by a solid few years. When they returned her to the main studio, she saw that both Percy and the Victors had gotten similar treatment.
"Don't worry, this isn't quite as star-stopping as your interview dress will be," Stefania reassured her, though Venatrix couldn't exactly call herself worried. "Wouldn't want to pull out the big guns too early." Venatrix huffed a chuckle at that; the ensemble looked about as formal as something she might have worn to the dinner party she'd attended with the other Careers.
The only difference was the array of signature weapons set up on one of the side tables; Venatrix's grin was genuine this time.
Prop weapons or not, they looked just as real and deadly as those at the training center, at the Academy. Venatrix's hand gravitated automatically towards one of the swords; she barely hid her disappointment when one of the assistants dragged her away to stand in front a white sheet, judging by Percy's grin of amusement.
They didn't keep her long, exchanging her for her parents at the barked instructions of the photographer whose name Venatrix had already forgotten. She relegated herself to standing by Percy at the weapons table; they'd put him in a nice pair of slacks and a dress shirt, though they'd left the top few buttons undone, sleeves cuffed, in order to give an impression of confident casualness. It fit him well enough.
Despite the late notice, they'd even managed to procure a bow and quiver for him; he nodded in thanks when one of the assistants slid it onto the table.
Venatrix's eyes drifted to the setup before her; judging by her parents' complacency with the Capitolites' instructions, this was hardly new territory for them. That much was obvious; Venatrix recalled seeing the end product of what must've been similar shoots scattered throughout the Capitol magazines in their manor back home. She hadn't realized how ridiculous the process was, however; both Oberon and Dagmara's ability to keep straight, professional smiles through the various sets of poses they ran through was both impressive and amusing to watch. Dagmara caught her daughter's silent laughter and sent her a subtle wink, battleaxe hefted staunchly over her shoulder as if it belonged with her mid-length cocktail dress.
The cameramen had them alternate between pleasant grins and serious but confident brooding expressions; if Venatrix didn't know any better, she'd never suspect anything to be stewing beneath her father's easy expressions.
Before long, they called Venatrix over to join them, and she didn't miss the subtle flicker of unease in Percy's expression as they posed her between her parents. "A lovely set of Victors you'd make," the assistant crooned as she arranged Venatrix's hands over the hilt of her sword, blade carefully perpendicular to the ground. Venatrix only nodded in thanks, smiling when she was instructed to. The tip of the sword rested on the ground between her feet, though her parents' weapons hovered protectively in her peripheral as the assistant made minor adjustments to the pose.
By the time they snapped the picture, Venatrix's cheeks were beginning to ache, and she was relieved when they wanted a close-lipped pout for the next one.
She was right about the time too; they cycled through far too many poses that seemed to be necessary, snatching them into the lens of their cameras with blinding flashes. They were nothing if not thorough, making sure to position Venatrix with each parent separately before swapping them out for Percy. They grabbed individual sets as well, for each tribute as well as the Victors, forcing a grumbling Morwenna onto the stage; she'd stubbornly tagged along once Percy's decision to come had been made.
After a quick but no less delectable lunch, a group photo concluded the session, complete with the three Victors and both tributes; Venatrix doubted the Capitolites would be able to beat any more decent photographs out of them between Morwenna's glower and Oberon's now-worn countenance. Venatrix's feet ached by the time they dragged her back to the dressing room, allowing her to wash her face and change back into the flats she'd worn here. On the ride back to the training center, Kitty let them scroll through the preliminary photographs from the session that they'd sent to her tablet. "They'll still need to be edited before they hit the magazines, but they should be out before interviews!"
"Could they hold it until the Games?" Venatrix asked curiously; if the rest of the pack never found out about this, their previous worries could be avoided entirely.
Kitty's pout was visible. "I can't imagine Tribute not releasing their issue on time this year; what a scandal that would be!"
"Can we have a real answer, please?" Morwenna said tersely.
"Well… I suppose I could ask about it…"
"Plan as if they won't, but we'll take it if they can," Dagmara instructed, glancing between Venatrix and Percy. They nodded in unison.
There were still a few hours before dinner when they returned to the suite; of course the minute Venatrix managed to get somewhat comfortable on the couch, her father pulled her aside for a brief run-through of her interview angle, and Venatrix suppressed a groan. Percy's sympathetic grimace quickly disappeared when Morwenna followed suit, and the mentor-tribute pairs disappeared into their respective private rooms.
Oberon briskly ran her through the typical range of interview questions that the interviewer, Bethia Apheleot, might ask, barely giving her enough time to think too deeply about the sour taste of her answers like she had when they'd first developed the angle in training. "Apheleot tends to be… pushy, so you'll need to stay on top of your story."
"Right. Okay."
"You can do this, honey," he said with a semi-reassuring smile. "It'll be over before you know it."
Venatrix's attempt to match his expression was half-hearted, but a knock on their door interrupted her efforts. The door opened, and Dagmara poked her head in, a sleek-looking cellular in hand. "Venatrix? I've got Mariposa on the line; she wants to speak with you. Are you finished?"
Venatrix blinked in confusion, though at Oberon's nod, she followed her mother from the room; Dagmara passed her the unfamiliar cellular with the brief explanation that each of the suites in the Training Center were equipped with one. Venatrix pressed her ear to the receiver. "Hello?"
"Hi, Vee," Mariposa's chipper tone rang through the device. "Are you busy? I figured you guys might be done with interview prep already– I am."
"Oh, yeah, we just finished." It wasn't exactly a lie.
"Great! Care if I pop over?"
Something in Venatrix's stomach fluttered at the notion. "I, um. Is that allowed?"
"Don't see why not."
Unsure what to say, Venatrix stalled by picking at her sleeve. From the corridor, Percy appeared at Morwenna's heels; he shot her a curious glance when he noticed her on the phone. 'Mariposa,' Venatrix mouthed, and his confusion only deepend. "Okay," she said, realizing it had probably been too long for her response. "I guess you can– you can come up here. Percy and I aren't–" his eyes widened at her words– "doing much."
'Just her?' Percy mouthed, and Venatrix shrugged. 'Tell her to bring the others.'
"–eat! I'll be right over," Mariposa was saying.
"Wait," Venatrix interjected before she could hang up. "Would you mind grabbing the others too? We can, I dunno, make a night of it or something," she said, thinking on the spot and exchanging an inquisitive look with Percy.
There was a small pause before Mariposa responded. "Sure thing. See you, Vee." Click.
Percy blinked. "What. Was that?"
"I think we're throwing another party," Venatrix said, unsure, and a laugh bubbled from Percy's lips at that.
Reappearing from the mentoring room with a stack of papers, Venatrix's father caught her words with a raised brow. "I would advise against drinking tonight. For you two at least; let the others go wild, if they want."
"No need to be underhanded," Dagmara countered, to which Oberon merely shrugged. "I doubt their mentors would be happy if they all showed up hungover for interviews."
"It would be their own fault–"
"No drinks!" Morwenna interjected. "We are not drugging the kids."
"I never said–!"
A sharp knock on the suite entrance interrupted him, and Venatrix quickly stood to get it. The mentors thankfully quieted when she opened the door to Mariposa's smile, and behind her, the rest of her allies mid-chatter. The blonde girl's expression inspired Venatrix's to match, and she stepped aside to let them in with a warm greeting.
"Wow, this looks so different from our suite," Mariposa said, her eyes taking in the white-marble walls, the steel-toned decor. "Same layout, but an entirely different aura."
Venatrix nodded as if she knew what that meant; thankfully, Dagmara saved her from an in-depth response by prompting the gathered party for food preferences, as mealtime was drawing closer. As the Careers made themselves at home in the District two suite, Venatrix noticed a missing head. "Where's Viper?"
Mariposa shrugged blithely from her seat on the corduroy couch. "Dunno. Probably throwing a tantrum or something."
"Posy, come on."
"'Posy'?" The One girl raised a manicured brow.
"I, uh– sorry if that's weird…"
Mariposa grinned, batting her eyelashes. "You can call me whatever you like, Vee."
"Ga–"
The elbow Venatrix sent into Percy's gut cut off his words, though it couldn't dissolve Mariposa's smirk, nor the heat of embarrassment now flooding Venatrix's cheeks. She broke the other girl's gaze, mind returning to the issue at hand. "Hey Mom–" Venatrix turned to her mother who paused her task of relaying the dinner preferences to one of the Avoxes– "can I have that phone again?"
Dagmara pointed to the cellular mount affixed to the nearby wall.
Quickly scooping it up and shuffling out of earshot of her peers, Venatrix redialed the District One suite. "Hello?" she said once the other line picked up. "This is Venatrix. Uh, Pyke."
"Venatrix! You're lucky enough to be speaking with the one and only Gaspar Gervaise; what can I do for you?"
Venatrix bit back a snort. "Is Viper there?"
"I believe he's in his room," the One Victor said, his voice pestering off at the end as he presumably moved his head away from the receiver to check. "Yep."
"Still sulking about training scores?"
"Heh, probably."
Venatrix cleared her throat. "Can you put him on?"
"If you insist."
Gaspar let out a drawn-out sigh, though it was quickly replaced with Viper's nasal voice. "What do you want, Pyke?" No shortage of mistrust laced his already-irritated tone, and Venatrix bit back a sigh of exasperation.
No point beating around the bush. "Viper, come to my suite."
"What? Why?"
Venatrix glanced over her shoulder, where the rest of the pack had gathered in the common area to watch Percy shuffle a deck of cards. "For… fun, I guess."
"Shouldn't you be calling my partner for that?" he sneered, and Venatrix rolled her eyes in impatience.
"She's already here."
A loud scoff echoed through the receiver. "Well, then I'm not coming."
"Thank god," Mariposa called from the couch.
"...The rest of the pack is here too."
"What!?"
The sharp dial tone immediately followed his words, and an amused laugh huffed through Venatrix's nose. Rejoining her allies by the couches, she instructed Percy to deal a hand for Viper, ignoring Mariposa's round of boos.
The Victors had conveniently made themselves scarce in the wake of the onslaught of teenagers. At the sight of an approaching Avox with a tray of food, a cheer went around the group; Venatrix thought she caught a small smile of surprise on the servant's face at the chorus of thanks.
A sharp rapping at the door interrupted the budding conversation of whose prep day had been more dull, with poor Grethel and Shannon as the clear victors.
Dragging herself to her feet, Venatrix again resigned herself to take responsibility for the inclusion of their remaining member. She opened the door to a cross-looking Viper, face almost as red as his hair. "Was anyone going to tell me about this?"
Venatrix raised a brow. "Is that not what I just did?"
It was almost amusing, the way his face twisted into confusion as the argument died on his tongue. The irritation never left his features; more so, Venatrix would bet, because he couldn't actually find fault with her this time. With a sharp, acknowledging nod, he relented, striding into the suite at her gesture.
The rowdy commotion that had overtaken the others seemed to die in his presence, the faces of the pair from Three turning properly chagrined under his irate stare. "Nice of you to drop by," Mariposa quipped, both her tone and her curled grin dripping with sarcastic smugness.
"You bitch–"
"Not here," Venatrix cut him off.
"See, this is why we'd be better off without him," Mariposa sneered from her perch on the couch.
"Of course you'd say that," Viper shot back. "You're the one who started this; don't think I don't know what you're doing, playing nice with the others when really you're just as fake as your hair." He snorted. "Hell, the only thing faker than that is your training score."
"'Makers, are you still bitching about that? Grow up."
Drawn out by the commotion the One pair was making, Venatrix's father had appeared from the mentor's corridor in time to catch Mariposa's words. He flashed the group an awkward grimace, shooting Venatrix a look that clearly said 'Please shut them up,' before disappearing back to the mentors' corridor with a mug of coffee in hand.
Ignoring her father, Venatrix fixed One pair with a firm stare. "Listen, you two can either be civil or you can go back to your own suite, huh? Percy and I are happy to have you all here, but trust me, you don't want Morwenna coming out to scream at you, because she will."
"You really don't," Percy added wryly, clearly speaking from experience as much as her.
There was enough of an edge in their tones for both Mariposa and Viper to simmer down. The blonde girl's eyes remained locked on Venatrix, though she held out a hand of playing cards to her district partner as a blithe peace offering.
Viper snatched them from her hand, but kept his mouth shut, taking a seat far away from her at Patience's side. He frowned at the cards. "What are we playing?"
"Spoons," Percy chirped.
Viper nodded as Venatrix took her place on the floor within reach of the seven spoons laid out on the coffee table. The game tended to be popular among their kind when things got too boring in the arena– it wasn't unheard of for someone to get stabbed over a game of spoons, especially if the participants decided to replace said spoons with knives if the utensils weren't included in the Cornucopia's supplies.
"Okay, ready?"
The pack nodded and Percy slipped into a focused state as he began rapid-fire passing around cards. Venatrix, used to playing with him, kept up easily, barely glancing at the cards that passed under her nose, while Patience let out a stream of curses. "What the fuck, Silverhorn?"
"Gotta keep up," Percy quipped, already halfway through the deck.
The sound of flipping cards drowned out the chatter until Mariposa nudged Venatrix with her knee, subtly tilting her hand so the latter could see the four jacks in her hand. Instinctively, both girls shot forwards to grab a spoon; in less than a second, all seven spoons had been snatched up, poor Shannon blinking dumbly at the empty coffee table.
"Hah! 'S' for you," Grethel jeered, elbowing him. "Four more letters and you lose."
"What are we spelling?" Idris asked with a frown.
Patience replaced her utensil on the table, shooting her partner a look. "'Spoon,' idiot."
"Ah. What happens if you lose?"
"Loser jumps the plate early," Viper said with a nasty grin.
"Oh, come on." Venatrix shot him a glare, and Viper only shrugged with amusement.
Mariposa raised a challenging brow. "I'm game."
"We're not doing that."
"It was a joke, relax," Viper huffed.
"Can someone besides Silverhorn deal, please?" Patience grumbled, and Percy passed the deck to Venatrix. After a quick shuffle, she dealt out four cards to each player, giving everyone a brief pause before she began the barrage. "You're kidding," Patience huffed, and Venatrix only laughed, focus divided between the cards and the spoons.
Giving up on trying to go for four-of-a-kind, Venatrix let her attention drift to the utensils and the girl next to her; conversation tended to be a good distraction tactic for the game. "Hey, Posy, sorry if this is rude to ask, but–" Mariposa gave her half an eye, her knee still pressed against Venatrix's leg– "do you really dye your hair?"
Worked like a charm; no less than three cards piled up next to the One girl before she recovered. She played it off well enough, quick to get back on pace. "Yes. Most of us do though."
"Even Viper?"
"Not me; the girls," he scoffed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Venatrix saw Idris's hand go for a spoon; she snapped one up without second thought, leaving Mariposa the only one without a spoon. She seemed too lost in thought to care, though.
Percy's head tilted in curiosity. "Why's that?"
Mariposa didn't respond immediately, collecting the cards scattered across the table. Venatrix passed her the remainder of the deck, and she gathered them into a pile to shuffle. "Well, as you might imagine, back home they've taken a liking to pretty blonde corpses."
The smack of perfectly-shuffled cards filled the empty air after her words, though Viper was quick to follow. "I'm sure they'd like another," he snarked, and Venatrix shot him a glare. "Fine, fine," he said, raising his hands in irascible surrender. "Couldn't resist that one."
"That's kind of fucked up," Percy said, ignoring Viper's jibe.
Quieting, the others hummed in agreement, to Mariposa's apparent discomfort. "It works well enough for a strategy. I think we all know it's not enough to just be good at combat to win."
Again, Venatrix sensed that they were edging into uncomfortable territory. "So, what made you want to volunteer in the first place?" she asked, slightly changing the topic; either way, she was curious.
"Well, I have the skills. Could use the money, of course. I could say it's for my family, but…" Reshuffling the deck again, Mariposa began passing around cards. "I've always kinda been doing this for me, y'know? I've been lucky enough to have a really good trainer; not many people are willing to stick their neck out for a scholarship girl."
Viper hummed, heedless of the note of bitterness in her tone. "Gaius Perrington, right?" She nodded. "I always wondered, why did he vouch for you so strongly?" By now, Venatrix – and the rest of the pack, she assumed – knew the One boy well enough to expect some sort of insult or insinuation on the edge of his words, and while it was there, Venatrix detected genuine curiosity in his tone too, to her surprise.
Mariposa shrugged, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "He probably doesn't want all those years he put into training me to go to waste."
"You were his favorite," Viper mused.
"Gaius…" Venatrix hummed, not recognizing the name. "He's not a Victor, is he?"
"No, just a trainer."
Venatrix nodded at the One girl's clarification. "Nice to have someone who believes in you," she said genuinely. Mariposa smiled softly in agreement, and Venatrix cleared her throat. "Well, I think you all know why I'm here, so. Uh, what about you, Viper?" She stretched out a foot to nudge him lightly beneath the table.
He waved a hand. "Glory, honor, money, blah blah." At the insistent stares of the others, the One boy shrugged. "Been a while since the St. Valleroys had a Victor in the family, and I just happen to be the best for the job."
That earned him some raised brows. "Did you actually?" Venatrix pressed.
"Like, way back before the Second Rebellion, or so."
"Oh."
"Old money," Mariposa scoffed.
Well, no wonder he's not trying to steal my thunder. Any other year, perhaps he might have; Venatrix wondered how much of it was based on his pride, a need to create his own angle. If Mariposa's previous accusations were true, Viper had no problem bribing his way towards the volunteer spot, though she supposed it was moot now. Far too late to change anything at this point.
"What about you guys, then?" Viper jerked his chin towards those who hadn't answered.
Patience and Idris exchanged a look and a shrug. "I've been training my whole life, y'know?" the Four girl said. "What else am I gonna do?"
Grethel nodded in agreement. "If Three thinks I can do it, who am I to argue?"
"Feel like I owe it to them," Shannon supplemented. "Like you said, Mariposa. They put so much time and energy into teaching us, we might as well make it worth something."
"Percy?" Mariposa prompted.
He shifted uncomfortably at Venatrix's side. "What Patience said, pretty much. It's always been the obvious next step, y'know." He huffed dryly. "I mean, I've got, what, five brothers? None of them managed to get the spot. I love 'em, but–" he exhaled a laugh– "if I had to join the Peacekeeping corps like them, I think I might die."
"You might die here," Viper piped up unhelpfully, and both Percy and Venatrix shot him a glare.
He's right, Venatrix thought, but so is Percy. This was always going to be the next step. Our next step.
She couldn't help but notice that Percy had abstained from mentioning his father; however much the man may have factored into Percy's decision, it wasn't Venatrix's place to bring it up either. Venatrix turned to the District One girl, nodding to the deck of cards. "Ready to go, Pose?"
"Yeah, I can–"
The sound of the door clicking open interrupted her, followed by the tack-tack of heeled shoes as Kitty strutted into the suite, eyes glued to her tablet. "So, bad news; they couldn't hold the photos, but good news, they look ah-mazing! Come and see, you guys– oh…"
The escort halted mid-stride as she stumbled upon the entire Career pack in the common area.
"Photos?" Viper prompted sharply.
"Um…"
"The, uh–" Venatrix cleared her throat, making the split-second decision to shoot for honesty– "The Capitol set up a photoshoot for us. Me and Percy," she said, carefully choosing her words. "We only found out about it this morning."
The awkward silence that followed her words was interrupted by Viper's caustic laughter. "That's… wow, that's incredible." He rose to his feet, stalking towards the escort. Kitty flinched when he snatched the tablet from her hands; his lip curled as he scrolled through the photos. "Just fucking wonderful. You know, at least I don't pretend to be righteous and honorable," Viper sneered, and Venatrix got the feeling he wasn't just speaking to her. "Interview prep, my ass."
"We literally found out about it today," Percy retorted, glaring at the One boy over the back of the couch.
"It'll be good for all of us," Venatrix pointed out, "Since we'll be splitting sponsorships in the beginning too."
"Oh, will we?"
"That's how it usually works."
"Right, because this is a usual year."
"Viper, come on–"
"He's got a point," Patience said, standing to join him by the foyer. He showed her the tablet, and the Four girl scoffed. "Fucking 'Makers," she cursed, shaking her head.
Eyes narrowed, Venatrix stood from the floor. "They pick favorites every year, I don't get what's so surprising about that." She reached for the tablet, but Viper childishly yanked it out of reach. "Really?"
He waved the device in front of her, leering at the scowl on her face. "Come on, don't you want your little handout?"
"It's really not as big a deal as you're making it out to be."
"Sure," Viper drawled, rolling his eyes. He shoved the tablet back into Kitty's hands. "You can have this back, but I'm out of here."
"Viper–"
He raised a brow at the warning in her tone. "Cool your jets, Pyke; I'm just going back to my suite." With that, he stalked out of the apartment, and Venatrix let him go; she knew she hadn't missed the note of satisfaction glittering in the One boy's eyes. With a sinking feeling, Venatrix realized this could be his ticket to getting the pack under his control– or worse. She hadn't forgotten Morwenna's reminder about the 144th Games.
As with his entrance, Viper's exit left an uncomfortable silence in its wake.
Apprehension swirled in Venatrix's gut. It only increased when Grethel dragged Shannon to his feet as well, the pair carefully heading for the door. "We should, uh, probably get going too," she said, both her words and her tone tentatively neutral. "Better get some good rest for tomorrow. Thanks for having us over."
"Well!" Idris chirped, springing to his feet. "Party's over, I guess. See you guys around." He skipped out the door on the heels of the Threes, Patience tossing one last glare over her shoulder as she followed.
"Nice job, Kitty," Percy scowled at the escort.
She grimaced in apology, but Venatrix was too busy attempting to gauge the expression on Mariposa's practiced-blank face. After a minute, she, too, headed for the door, albeit slowly.
"Mari–" The name caught on her tongue when the One girl glanced back over her shoulder. "You'd do the same thing," Venatrix insisted. "Don't say you wouldn't."
"Probably." Mariposa's tone was frighteningly cool. "Happy Hunger Games, Venatrix."
With that, she was gone.
true vengeance 151 . weebly . com
A/N: Operating under the assumption that everyone reading has played Spoons... If not hopefully u got a decent enough idea of how it works. It's. A delightfully aggressive game (at least the way I play lmaoooo). This was supposed to be shorter and then I decided to have those convos happen over a card game lol..
Not much else to say. We are getting so down to the wire, I'm excited :D If we're lucky, I can fit the rest of pre-games into 2 more chapters instead of 3... we'll see. See y'all hopefully soon w the next update !
- Nell