Chapter 46: Everything You're Not
Two days in, thirteen dead, and already Venatrix could cut the tension with a knife.
Mariposa looked like she might try.
The One girl's eyes trailed her district partner and his near-drunken laughter, the bottle he still wouldn't let go of. Venatrix didn't miss the way her gaze bloomed with hatred. Fortunately — or unfortunately, depending on who was talking — the cat now forcibly curled up within Mariposa's iron grip prevented her from doing so.
Venatrix glanced at the black and white thing. She had no problem with cats. Granted, she had no particular affinity towards them either; mutts, on the other hand, not so much. But the creature had shown nothing out of the ordinary from typical cat behavior according to Mariposa, hissing and wailing be damned. It had finally given up straining, though it still bared its teeth when anyone else came close. Viper had nearly lost a hand when he tried, and in his own hissing rage, he'd suggested slaughtering it, on the grounds that they shouldn't be giving filthy mutts head-scratches anyways.
As usual, Mariposa ignored him. The cat stayed.
The rain of parachutes that arrived for the killers were a good enough distraction anyways. Everyone except Venatrix, of course.
Of course.
In all honesty, the last thing she cared about was who received credit for that kill, she'd just wanted it to stop—
But the rewards that floated from the sky and onto Viper St. Valleroy's lap cemented the feeling of dread in her stomach as much as his snide grin, the President's favor still clutched in his grip. As much as she loathed it, she couldn't deny the brilliance of his actions, sadistic as they may have been. The target, the timing; just enough viciousness to come out on top no matter the outcome.
The seething part of Venatrix's mind hissed relentlessly that you should've thought of it first.
They trained us for this, goddammit. She knew where to cut not only to kill, but to bleed, to hurt; the onus was on her for not having the stomach to watch let alone take point. But the opportunity had passed, the bodies long-since dumped into the water where the winged humanoid creatures had plucked them from the bank.
In a jest, Viper had hailed them as angels, as valkyries come to carry off the fallen warriors. To Venatrix, they were nothing more than reapers.
Despite the blood on her hands, Venatrix found she no longer expected a reward. Too meager a kill; perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that Viper was too elated by his gift to bite her head off. At least Percy deigned to offer her a portion of his lunch. A small, but welcome consolation; while the rich stew couldn't offer much comfort, its warmth sent a pleasant shiver down Venatrix's spine.
There will be no prize for anything but Victory at the end of the day.
Swallowing down the uneasiness, Venatrix announced — not suggested — a plan to switch camp from the horn to the boat. A mobile base, plus a position that would put them at an advantage to any tributes who intended to go after their supplies. Not even Viper felt the need to argue with that logic, merely shrugging as he attempted to pry open his bottle with a knife.
Of course, that meant they'd need to transfer the supplies from the Cornucopia themselves. Good time as any to put those oars to use, and Venatrix could see this for what it was: a chance to take charge again without killing people. Death was the name of the game, but she doubted they'd come across any more outlying tributes today, and… As much as a certain serpentine Career made her hair stand on end, Venatrix would prefer not to start killing her allies just yet.
Still, Viper's keen gaze hardly ever left hers. It seemed like he wanted an eye on her as much as she did him.
It kept her shoulders tense, being just on the edge of his attention.
Get yourself together, goddammit. The oar in her hands was something Venatrix could focus on, at least. Four hands on deck— no way in hell could the Ones cooperate enough to actually help— granted them enough power for the task. She sent Mariposa on ahead to alert the others to their situation and the current plan; Charcoal the cat— (Mariposa insisted on using the name the Twelve boy had given it)— stayed behind, cowering beneath a bench as far from the pack as it could get.
Viper took it upon himself to direct their strokes, to Venatrix's utter lack of surprise. Thankfully, she and Percy didn't need the One boy's input to synchronize, though reorienting the boat proved a painful experience in itself. Sitting opposite her partner, Venatrix focused on timing her strokes to match his, and the four Careers eventually managed to slip into a smooth pattern.
The ordeal took the entirety of the day, between rowing upstream and packing the ship. Anything they couldn't take, they torched.
She sat now on the ship across from Mariposa. Her eyes lingered on her still-damp boots, at the scar on the wooden deck where her sword had gone straight through the Nine girl's skull, before she averted them upwards.
Smoke curled skyward over the mountaintop from their bonfire, and Venatrix watched, clenching and unclenching her shaking fists. Funny that it was this— the sheer effort of moving the ship— rather than the fighting and killing, that brought her to the brink of exhaustion. Soreness leached through just about every muscle, though nothing so much as her legs; they trembled still as she attempted to stretch them. Venatrix could tell the other three felt the same. Even now, her palms shone raw pink with blisters; she could practically feel another set beneath them, straining to burst through her skin. This better not mess up my swordwork. From now on, she'd have the pack avoid rowing at all costs, letting the boat sail at the river's whim.
Or she'd have the others do it.
Whether or not they'd actually listen to her was another question in itself.
"Hey." At Percy's voice, she glanced up to find a small, welcoming smile on his face. He held out his palm to reveal a small, circular tin. "Snagged one of these before we left," he explained at her quizzical frown. "Most of your paint came off in the water."
"Oh."
He opened the tin, and Venatrix caught a flash of vibrant red. Wordlessly, she let him touch up the markings on her face. "There you go. Good as new."
Venatrix grunted in thanks, and he placed the tin in her hand. "What about mine?" Mariposa piped up, pausing her task of attempting to bribe Charcoal out from beneath her bench with a piece of meat. Sure enough, her headfirst dive into the river had washed away most of the paint from her face as well; her round eyes enforced the question, and Venatrix gestured for her to scoot closer. With a red-coated thumb, Venatrix redrew the line of paint over Mariposa's forehead, down the slope of her nose. Two fingers rested underneath Mariposa's jaw to steady the girl's head while Venatrix silently brushed red over her already-rosy lips, her chin. Mariposa didn't move when she lowered her hand.
Sharply, Percy cleared his throat; Venatrix finally looked away from the One girl. A half-smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, an expression that made her shoot him a glare.
"Thanks, Vee." A different kind of sentiment played across Mariposa's curved lips, and Venatrix had to catch herself before she returned it. Instead, she nodded curtly, wishing that she could forget about the events of the day in light of her friends' smiles.
Just then, a cheer rang out from the opposite end of the ship; evidently, Viper finally managed to crack open his bottle. He took a long swig at the encouragement of the Fours before passing it, loudly proclaiming himself the President's chosen favorite for at least the third time today.
Mariposa scoffed. "God, you can just tell his mother never loved him."
A choking noise spewed from Venatrix's throat; Percy guffawed loud enough to catch the attention of the others, though he didn't seem to care.
At the glare Viper sent their way, Mariposa only flashed an innocent grin. "I can practically feel the mommy issues from here," she drawled, and Venatrix didn't bother stifling her snort of amusement this time.
"Ah, come on, Mommy issues are lame," Percy countered. "Daddy issues are where it's at, right Trix?"
A beat of silence; Venatrix blinked. "I—what?" Percy's humorous expression froze; she didn't like the look he exchanged with Mariposa at all. "…I don't have daddy issues."
"Trix…"
Venatrix narrowed her eyes. "What."
He huffed in an attempt to diffuse the tension. "I mean, I pretty much have secondary daddy issues from your dad."
Opposite her, Mariposa looked suspiciously like she was trying not to laugh; Venatrix quelled her mirth with a pointed glare. The One girl raised her hands in surrender. "Can't have daddy issues if you don't have a dad."
The two of them slapped a high-five and Venatrix scowled. "You do realize we are on national television right now, yes?"
"Lighten up a bit, Trix. I'm only teasing," Percy said, gently nudging her shoulder.
"Not funny."
"We can always go back to making fun of Viper," Mariposa chirped.
A pointed voice cut into their conversation. "Talking about me, aren't you?" Drink in hand, Viper swaggered over, almost unsteady enough for her to question his sobriety if it weren't for the glint of malice in his smug expression. "Of course you are," he said when Venatrix opened her mouth. "Why wouldn't you?"
"Don't flatter yourself."
Viper shot his district partner a glare. "Here I am, graciously offering to share my prize with the rest of my allies—" he spread his arms wide, gesturing to the bottle of alcohol— "and this is the thanks I get?"
"Thank you," Venatrix said stiffly before Mariposa could spit another insult, and all three of them gave her a surprised look.
"Well, well, well—"
"I'm not drinking anything you didn't drink from first." Venatrix gave the One boy a sharp look; he'd long-since proven himself snake-like enough to match his name.
Viper only chuffed. "I didn't poison it. But fine." He shrugged, taking another long swig before passing the bottle to Venatrix. "Careful, I have cooties." He chuckled at his own words, but Venatrix ignored him, taking her own small sip.
(It may be more satisfying to break the bottle over his head and slit his throat with the broken glass, but Venatrix knew better than to discard a gift from the President.)
The pleasant burn of alcohol immediately coated her tongue with an unexpected woody, honey-like sweetness. Must be a mead of sorts. Like the type Uncle Duncan makes for the winter holidays. The sudden, heavy nostalgia hit her like a brick, and Venatrix sucked in a breath; sharp liquid came with it, leaving her choking and sputtering. Fuck! Viper recoiled in disgust; she thrust the bottle into his hands as Percy slapped her roughly on the back. "I really didn't poison it," he said with a frown of confusion. "Maybe I should've—"
"I'm fine," Venatrix wheezed. "Just went—down the wrong pipe." She cleared her throat, straightening.
Viper wagged the bottle. "Any other takers?"
"I'm good," Percy said with a stiff smile, still rubbing at her shoulder.
To Venatrix's surprise, Mariposa snatched the bottle from his grip and took a large gulp; promptly, she spat the contents in Viper's face.
Venatrix and Percy were on their feet before the Ones could spring for each other's throats; Percy's shove sent Viper staggering backwards while Venatrix gripped Mariposa's shoulder like a vice. Sharply, Mariposa shrugged her off, undeniable irritation laced through the gesture, though the instigatory glint in her eyes never left Viper's.
She made no further move to attack. Truth be told, Venatrix was more worried about her partner.
Malding fury twisted his lips into a snarl, creasing the fresh blue paint at his brow, but Percy's hand at his chest did its job. Venatrix braced herself for a tirade of spitting anger from the One boy as he wiped the spittle from his face; if the glances thrown their way from the other end of the ship were anything to go by, the rest of the pack expected it too.
Instead, he merely took another step back. An odd chuckle spilled from the smile that split his lips, coiling the tension in Venatrix's shoulders, but he merely jerked his chin at the bottle in Mariposa's hands; a request. Percy obliged him, and without a word, Viper turned on his heel, taking a large drink from the bottle as he went.
"'Makers, is he drunk?" Percy muttered under his breath.
Venatrix ignored her friend. Drunk or not, it wasn't like Viper to show such impressive restraint, to brush a slight like that so easily from his shoulders. People like him, they held grudges close to their chest.
That, she knew all too well.
Viper wouldn't forgive Mariposa any sooner than he'd forget that it was Venatrix who stole Gaberlee Jacobson's life from his hands. Venatrix glanced at the One girl, her dark eyes still narrowed after her partner. "Don't do that again," Venatrix said lowly.
"Sorry, I couldn't resist—"
"I mean it, Mariposa."
Mariposa turned to her finally, Venatrix's severity reflected in her expression. "And I meant what I said back in training. If he gets control of the pack, I won't follow him."
"What makes you think he has control?" Venatrix snapped.
Mariposa folded her arms, jutting out her chin in a way that could only be described as stubborn. "Tell him that."
I will. But it felt petulant to say so out loud, a position that Venatrix wasn't familiar with finding herself in. Not from her peers, at least. She took her seat back on the bench, leaning forward on her knees; even Percy's presence next to her couldn't dispel the scowl of frustration that tightened her jaw.
"You know, this could be avoided if we just…" Mariposa sliced a line across her throat with a finger, and Venatrix shot her a withering look. "Just saying. Should've nipped him in the bud." In the Bloodbath, she meant.
In that moment, Venatrix found herself wishing the same. But no amount of wishful thinking would erase the ghost of the Nine girl's screams, her empty-socket begging.
"I thought I told you to cut it out." Evenly, Venatrix met Mariposa's righteous glare. "I won't tell you again."
To her credit, the One girl's expression didn't change, though Venatrix didn't miss the way she flexed her fists. Without another word, she stalked away, pausing a few seats down to attempt to coax the still-cowering cat out from under its bench.
A heavy sigh leaked from Percy's lips. "You shouldn't push her away." Though his words were gentle, there was an undeniable warning in his tone.
"I'm not trying to, it's just…"
"You want this to succeed, I know." He paused, and Venatrix braced herself for him to tell her how stupid she was. "I think… it's okay if it doesn't. We just have to be careful, yeah?"
Of course she wanted this to succeed. Maybe she'd never be as ruthless of a leader as her father, but she could at least be effective. What else was she supposed to be? A bar so low it was underground, and instead of a sword, she'd brought a shovel.
Percy, though, he'd never cared what she was expected to be; the warmth in his blue-silver eyes said he still didn't.
What good was an effective leader if they ended up dead?
You can't lose sight of the real goal.
Winning, not leading. Too often Careers got caught up in the very same politics that led to their downfall. That won't be me. Maybe them, but not me. Of course, the pack had its obvious advantages, but nothing can stop the inevitable volatility of eight trained killers left to their own devices.
Day two, day two, it's only day two…
Right now, the pack was her ticket to Victory. On the whole, they'd already proven effective enough; so far, every single death could be attributed to the eight — six, really — of them.
…Like hell she'd concede to someone like Viper.
Percy's concerned gaze still lingered on her, and Venatrix nodded stiffly. "Yeah. You're right." She glanced at the deck, the water still sloshing around their boots. "We should clean this up unless we want to be sleeping in puddles."
In other words, conversation over. For now.
Cleaning the boat turned out to be too much of a hassle for the encroaching exhaustion; collectively, the pack decided to pull up to dry land. They'd snagged a few animal-skin tents from the Cornucopia, spending the evening pitching them around a fire that Percy started. In a large pot they'd brought along, Grethel decided to boil some water, tossing in the rest of the leftover meats and bread and even a handful of edible grasses she'd picked up around their campsite. It was far from the greatest thing Venatrix had ever eaten, but it was enough to fill her stomach.
Overhead, the sun trickled below the mountaintops, towering now that they'd set themselves up in the valley. Tonight's clouds didn't catch color like they should, sparse as they were.
Instead, the hue slowly drained from the landscape, from the faces of her peers, in preparation for the nighttime light show. They milled about silently; muted chatter sprang up every now and then as they cleaned their bowls. Charcoal the cat sat calmly in Mariposa's lap, dying firelight reflected in his eyes. In the quiet air, Percy offered to take the night's watch, and Venatrix breathed a sigh of relief that she might actually get some sleep tonight.
The feeling dissipated when her gaze landed, almost instinctively, on Viper, resentment and caution building in her chest as she watched him sit idly, uncaring. An irritatingly content expression lingered on his face. Awfully pleased with yourself, aren't you? The now-empty bottle sat between him and Shannon, the dregs of its contents fully dispersed among the pack during their meal. Viper stared at it for a minute before turning to the group. "Does anybody have a pen?"
Quizzical silence met his words until Shannon dug something from his token pouch. "This work?"
Venatrix frowned. "What are you doing?"
Viper ignored her, taking the stubby pencil Shannon offered him. "Surprised they let this through," he commented as he ripped a section of paper from his previous note and began scribbling. Shannon leaned in closer to see, but Viper snatched it away. "Ah-ah," he tutted. Rolling up the paper, he shoved it into the empty bottle, replacing the gnarled cork. He stood, and Venatrix mirrored the action, quick enough to raise his brow. "Curious, are you?"
"What does it say?" Venatrix pressed.
"That's for me to know, and you to find out." He cocked his head. "Or not."
"Could you tell me?" Idris piped up, but Viper ignored him, stalking towards the river.
With a resolute irritation, Venatrix picked her way across the fire to follow him. Evidently, the curiosity of her peers only went as far as half-interested glances thrown their way. Venatrix herself didn't particularly care about whatever antics her ally had in mind; she merely watched as he drew his arm back and chucked the bottle into the dark waters. "Just a friendly message," he said blithely.
Venatrix didn't believe that for a second. Not like she cared, anyways.
You're just an obstacle, Viper. And you're in my way.
"I know why you did what you did."
Viper raised a brow at her humorless tone. "Come to lecture me, have you?" There was that amused sneer. "Ever heard of getting bored?"
Overhead, the first few stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky. The river below distorted them in its rippling mirror-image, partially blotted out by the surrounding mountains, though the water remained as calm as Venatrix had ever seen it. Viper's bottled message was nowhere to be found. "You're not very difficult to read, Viper."
"Is that why we get along so well?"
Venatrix ignored his heavy sarcasm, pacing slowly closer towards him and out of earshot of their allies. "You weren't bored, you were overcompensating." Viper stiffened, shooting her a glare. "Had to make up for that ten somehow."
"I deserved better—"
"You got what you deserved," Venatrix said plainly. "And you'll get it again. I know how you got here, and it wasn't because of your swordsmanship skills."
Starlight flashed from Viper's teeth as he snarled. "As if you're not just the same—"
"Yet, you feel threatened by me," Venatrix cut him off. "That's why you're doing this. Everybody already knows me; they know what my parents did, what my sister did. They know what I can do. You should feel threatened by that." The One boy huffed a sardonic laugh, but it didn't deter her. "It's not just me— you feel threatened by Mariposa because you know she's skilled. Because you can't handle the fact that she's right."
Even the dark couldn't hide his glower now.
"You weren't enough on your own." The cold surety in Venatrix's words surprised even her. "Your parents paid them off to get rid of you, and now you feel the need to prove yourself… I get that, I really do." Maybe she had just as much to prove, but Venatrix knew she had earned her place through more than enough sweat and blood. All of District Two had declared it so. Her lips twisted in a sneer. "As if tearing out that girl's eye makes you any more respectable of a person."
Her feet shifted, and Viper stepped back almost involuntarily. Half of her heart bemoaned the swords left behind at the campfire. "Too bad I don't give a shit," Viper bluffed.
"You do," she countered. "You say we're alike, Valleroy, but you're wrong. You will never be enough."
For once, Viper had no immediate, biting remark. His teeth ground together in search of something, some witty insult that carried more weight than a hissed exhale.
A flicker overhead caught Venatrix's eye, and the sky exploded with color.
The blaze of the aurora washed over Viper's pale features, drowning out his lack of words in flute-tones and drum beats that hammered the anthem into her bones. Tonight, they'd painted the Capitol seal in fiery reds and hints of silver. The shimmering face of day's first victim soon replaced the eagle, still wreathed in silver and blood; with a look of disgust, Viper turned his back on the display, but Venatrix grabbed him by the shoulder. "You will watch," she hissed into his ear.
"This doesn't affect me," he scoffed. "I'm not that pathetic."
"No, you just can't handle the consequences of your actions." Venatrix's grip tightened. The light show morphed into the image of the Twelve boy, all blues and greens and shifting turquoises. "And there will be consequences; that is not a threat, that is a warning."
She didn't have to warn him. Not when he so clearly desired to style himself her adversary.
Play nice for now. While you can. 'Nice' being anything short of a sword through his gut. Venatrix smiled tersely, and Viper ripped himself from her grasp. "Careful, maybe next time I will poison your wine."
"I'd recommend staying sober for the rest of the Games," Venatrix clipped.
Scowling, he stalked back to the camp, and Venatrix had no reason to linger. The pink-purple glow of the Thirteen girl's image washed over the pebbly riverbank, the sparse grass; orange embers still glowed dimly in the remains of the campfire by the time the aurora disappeared below the peaks. Percy sent her a questioning look from his cross-legged position when Venatrix didn't sit down with the rest of them.
"Shannon." She jerked her chin to the Three boy, currently polishing his glasses with the corner of his fur cloak. "You'll take tonight's watch with Percy. The night is short, so you shouldn't need to change shifts." He nodded obediently, and she continued. "I want to make myself very clear to all of you."
Those who hadn't bothered listening turned their heads at her words.
"You may think that your background as a Career guarantees your place in this alliance. While that's true, that does not mean that you aren't required to contribute. Everyone needs to earn their place." Venatrix clasped her hands behind her back, distinctly aware of Idris shifting in place, of Shannon's lowered gaze. "Especially you."
She hadn't had the energy earlier to chew the two of them out for their inactivity during the assault of the ship, but it was all coming to a point now.
"You will either find someone— or something— to kill within the next few days…" Venatrix's expression hardened. "Or you can decide among yourselves who's stronger."
Shocked looks floated around the group, and more than enough immediate protests. Idris appeared too stunned to argue, eyes round in the moonlight. "What the hell?" Patience spat in his place; similar sentiments poured from Grethel's lips in defense of her partner, but it was Viper's laughter that drowned them out.
"What a great idea!" His insolent grin widened under Venatrix's glare. "No, I mean it," he insisted. "Better shape up, you two. My money's on Shannon."
"Fuck off," Patience snapped.
The One boy only chuckled, staring after her as she disappeared into a nearby sleeping tent on the heels of her caught-off-guard district partner. The others began to follow suit. Mariposa's expression was unreadable in the gloom; nevertheless, she nodded to the tent where she'd placed her bag when Venatrix's eyes found her.
Venatrix passed Percy as she picked her way over. Apprehension filled his expression, but with Shannon keeping watch next to him, he didn't dare question her decree. She doubted her terse smile offered him any sort of real reassurance.
From behind, Viper's voice came as a low murmur in the now-still night air. "You're trying so hard to be him, aren't you?"
Venatrix didn't bother turning around.
Maybe he was right. Sometimes she had to be her father's daughter.
true vengeance 151 . weebly . com
A/N: Ok Venatrix "I don't have daddy issues" Pyke...
Sorry for the delay; will update the blog when I can to put a Day 2 recap in the status updates section. Hopefully I can get a little more efficient with updates ;-; See y'all then, I guess !
- Nell