Uncharted Waters [1]

Chapter 21

Mira wakes up before Dawn. Being in Finnick's arms last night satisfied her enough to let herself sleep finally. There were no other pleasantries exchanged other than them enjoying being in each other's arms as they looked down at the celebration beneath them. Mira took her time to revel in the moment until Finnick had to leave for sponsors. 

He tried his best not to make it obvious, but it was clear that he didn't want her to leave his embrace. 

If only he could.

Mira on the other hand was content. Spending her possible last moments with the person she likes was enough. Although she couldn't tell him what she felt, she assumed that her actions towards him were enough to deliver the message. 

If only she could.

Mira doesn't see Destan in the morning. Instead, Nixie saunters into her quarters with a simple shift to wear and guides her to the roof. They waited only a few seconds until a hovercraft appeared in thin air. A ladder drops down and Mira looks at Nixie first who gives her an assuring nod. The moment she places her hands and feet on the lower rungs, an electric current glues her to the ladder as she is safely lifted inside. 

Once inside, a woman with a syringe inserted her tracker while still on the ladder before she was finally released. Then, Nixie was retrieved next from the roof and she gracefully stepped onto the hovercraft's floor. An Avox guides them to a room where breakfast has been laid out. Mira didn't have the appetite to eat because of her nervousness, but she forced every delectable thing she saw down her throat as if it were her last. 

It might.

While she was stuffing her guts out, Nixie was sipping on what looked to be like champagne, lost in her own thoughts. Mira being Mira, tried to start a conversation. 

"Nixie- my mother-" She hesitates, catching Nixie's attention, who gives her a wide smile to encourage her to go on.  "You said she was your first tribute."

"Ah yes, I remember I told you that she made me cry." She chuckles at the distant memory.

"Is she really the mermaid?" Mira asks, referring to the figurines and pub mats she sees around the Capitol that pretty much have the same face. 

"Oh no deary, she was the siren. A far more vile and deadly creature-" Her painted red lips puckered in thought. "As a matter of fact, we did so much work on your mother compared to you." 

"What do you mean?" Mira asked before she bit into a lemon tart.

"Well for starters, your mother didn't actually care about what she looked like. She was naturally beautiful, but the effects of labor were clear and visible. Her blonde hair was matted and in tangles, as if she didn't even bother to brush it. Her skin tone was uneven from being exposed to the sun, and her hands and feet were clearly overused. I could still remember the horror in Bythe's face as he explained how many times they had to scrub her feet to rid of all the dead skin." Doris chuckled sadly at the memory then looked at the young girl across from her. "You two are different but similar at the same time."

Mira didn't answer. She was glad to hear bits about her mother from those who once knew her. At home, her mother was rarely mentioned, but it was as if she were a celebrity in the Capitol. 

"To be honest, when I found out that I was going to style Marilla's daughter I was about to resign." She confesses. "Don't blame me but your mother really made an impression on me." Her eyes widened to prove her point. 

"So do you regret knowing me?" Mira asked, and it took Nixie some time before she could answer. Seeing someone from the Capitol showing empathy to the tributes was a rare sight. Usually, they didn't care about who they would style or chaperone, but this was their former victor's daughter. 

"I do actually," Nixie says honestly, and Mira's face morphed in disappointment at her stylist's answer. But seeing the young girl's dejected expression, Nixie quickly explained her answer. But before doing so, she scanned the room, remembering that they were currently being filmed by cameras, and scooted her chair until she was next to Mira and whispered in a hushed tone. "I was never the type to develop a bond with my tribute. But I would bet everything in my wardrobe if that could help you come out alive." She straightened herself up and adjusted her hat elegantly before sighing. "But only if I could my dear. Unfortunately, the odds aren't always in our favor." She says, siping her glass, just as the windows black out. 

"We're here." Nixie declares. 

The hovercraft lands, and Mira and Nixie are escorted back to the ladders that go underground. 

The catacombs. Mira thought as she scanned the surroundings around her. They follow the instructions that direct them to Mira's personal chamber, the Launch room. No pleasantries were exchanged this time. Mira was too nervous and tried to keep the food in her stomach. She showered and brushed her teeth. Then, Nixie pleated Mira's dark, wavy hair into a fishtail just as her outfit arrived. 

The package contains her undergarments, cargo pants, a sturdy belt, a grey tank top, socks, combat boots, and a hooded jacket. Nixie helped her dress into her clothes. "Remember what your mentors said: use what you have. But that wouldn't be too much of a problem because there is no doubt that you have enough sponsors betting on your survival." She reached into the little shell purse she had held the whole time and took out a familiar object.

"My anklet." Mira smiles. She felt bad for almost forgetting about it. 

"Well, I did have to save the best for last. I know this means much to you." She says, assisting Mira in putting it around her ankle. "Won't it come off?" Mira asks, wiggling her feet to test if the accessory would fall off. 

Nixie stands up from her position and smiles as she looks Mira in the eyes. "I trust the craftsmanship of this token, just as I trust you to win." She whispers the last part again and asks Mira if everything is comfortable and Mira moves around to test if she is. She nodded in affirmation and Nixie led her to a couch as they waited for the final call. Mira couldn't help but bite her lip in anxiousness until she tasted blood and couldn't help but play with the hem of her top. Nixie places a hand on Mira's knee, giving her a comforting smile. The stylist couldn't bring herself to say anything else because, for the first time, she was worried and nervous about a tribute's wellbeing. She hands Mira a glass of water, which she gladly accepts, and drinks the whole thing in one go. Just as she finished every last bit of the liquid, a female voice announced it was time to prepare for launch. 

They both look at each other, and Nixie extends her hand for Mira to take as she leads her to stand on the circular metal plate. She was still holding on to Nixie when her anxiety set in. The realization that she would probably die in just a few minutes is taking its toll on her. Nixie, on the other hand, couldn't do anything but pull the shaking girl in her arms for a comforting embrace in hopes that it would help calm her down before they got separated. Her stylist whispers soothing words into her ear and rubs her back. 

"You're going to be okay, sweetie. Just remember what your mentors taught you and your mother's fiery spirit in you." When she feels Mira's sobbing stop, she releases her from the embrace and wipes her tears as she gives her one final once-over. "Truly a beautiful girl." Her stylist says more to herself than to her and takes a step back just as a glass cylinder lowers around her. 

Nixie puts two fingers on her lips and then slightly points them towards her as if she were blowing her a kiss. She then mouthed a 'good luck' and gestured for Mira to wipe her tears, and the girl did. 

The lights went out. 

For fifteen seconds, she was just in the darkness. She made herself calm down by taking deep breathes and tried to think about the faces of everybody she loved. But the cramped space still felt suffocating. Then, she feels herself being pushed out of the cylinder into the open air. It took her a moment to adjust to the sudden bright light, but she had already smelled something familiar.

Home.

She smelt the warm, sea breeze even before she could fully see.

Then, the voice of the legendary announcer, Claudius Templesmith, booms all around her. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the Sixty-ninth Hunger Games begin!"