Worth it | F.O.

V

Just as she had thought, the train truly was glamorous to all definitions of the word. Once more it seemed as if she belonged in a place such as this with its plush carpets and, from the peeks she had taken into rooms they passed, expensive decorations of gold and silver. But it certainly wasn't the last of it, both that and she was sure.

There was always more to be expected in a place of such spoiled little demon children that had never been rejected anything as the Capitol.

With every step diving into the soft red of the flooring with a sound thud, Nivea's trek down the hall slowed that of Crop's behind her, not that he cared, as her eyes seemed to flick onto each new thing and offer a quick analysis. With her hands shoved deep into the pockets she had only just discovered with some glee in her formal jumpsuit, she looked the part of a cryptic agent in the arts looking to recruit for some kind of deal with a school or gallery. Unbeknownst to any of those around her, including the two victors that had just made themselves known at the end of the hall, in her pocket she was cracking her knuckles in preparation for whatever they may have decided to throw at her - whether figuratively or literally.

From this point onward she didn't know how things would be run. Nivea didn't know the rules of this game nor of the people she would be coached by and how far they would be willing to go for a victory. She would be damned if she let them get the jump on her in any way, shape, or form.

Her gaze did not pay nearly as much attention to the dangerous killers of a near two dozen kids as much as her mind did, to them seeming as if she had no care in the world with her leisurely scan of every compartment and it's contents. She could tell Crop didn't like the slow pace they had donned in the slightest, nor the blatant ignoring of their mentors, but he said nothing. After a few more moments in which Seeder and Chaff exchanged glances, entirely unsure on how this year was going to end up going down, judging upon the way their features were morphed currently, Nivea finally gave them her attention.

Neither caught onto the frigidity in the look she gave them, instead instinctively she watched carefully as their eyes attempted at pinpointing any possible weaknesses of the two teens, seemingly a bad habit they had never managed to break even after so long since they won their games. It soon became clear that they wouldn't find a one on her even if they found many on the younger of the two.

That was when it seemed Crop had had enough, lightly shouldering past her and sticking out a hand for his mentor to shake, the slightest tremor in his fingers seen by all others but him. As the much taller dark-skinned man began to raise his arm to accept the greeting, Nivea spied his other arm's hand tightening its grip on a bottle of some kind of alcoholic beverage.

The younger boy stammered slightly, "I'm Crop - Crop Ilanis. It's nice to meet you."

A brief moment of confusion ensued when she briefly remembered the outrage of confusion that had ensued when Chaff had lost his hand and refused a prosthetic back when she had studied the older man's games. Why ever would he offer the arm that had no hand to speak of for a handshake?

But she got her answer soon enough, that and a look of amusement at her surprisingly obvious confusion from her mentor. When Chaff decided to slide a stub of an arm instead of an actual hand with actual fingers, as Crop had clearly expected, into his, the mentee yelped. It wasn't a casual yelp either, or the tiniest sound slipping. Out of both of those, it was much more akin to a scream belonging to much more feminine vocal cords than his own actually were.

Nivea had to stop the chuckle that threatened to slip past her now smirking lips, the curls of the ghostly wisps of joy upon her lips failing upon the sight of a fond smile present in the other woman in the hall's expression. For a moment she didn't understand. How could she be smiling when she was about to train a kid to die pointlessly? Was she just so used to it after so many years that the thought no longer bothered her? The darkness engulfed Nivea's heart even further with that.