Worth it | F.O.

XII

It was day two of training and Nivea, for the most part, was in high spirits regarding that fact. The day before had been spent among the careers, getting to know them and their specialties, as well as ensuring it wasn't all too buddy buddy. They had devised that, as to further their chances of one of them winning, she and their alliance were to remain a closely guarded secret so she could form her own with the others. 

To them, she was nothing but a pawn to play double agent, their secret yet simultaneously disposable weapon. To her, however, she knew, if anything, with her intentions from the get go she was more of an agent of that sort than they could have ever imagined. The careers were so egocentric as a whole they didn't even realize they had played right into her hands with this plan they believed to be so very clever.

It was nothing of the sort; merely common sense if you will.

So, day two would be spent claiming innocence of harassment and gaining allies that would win her her purpose and, with that, her reason to live and her very life. Nivea would have been telling an outright lie if she claimed she wasn’t nervous in the slightest, especially seeing as that day could be her make it or break it point. But she pushed past this minor obstacle, just as she did that morning when a certain Capitol woman with hair strongly resembling a gravity-defying waterfall of the strangest shapes imaginable attempted to block her and her ally’s path. 

Her bloody lips let words slip past even with the rude gesture presented, “You're leaving already?”

Nivea paused and her head tilted as she looked back, expression clear of any thoughts running rampant, including that of the ones expressing immense dislike whenever a Capitol citizen happened to be within a mile's vicinity. “We can't afford to be late.”

“Of course, of course,” her accent ground Nivea's patience down quicker than any nail file could, even one held by a giant possessing superspeed. “But don't you want to eat something first?”

Crop answered this time, standing awkwardly on the threshold of their temporary place of residence a few paces ahead, hands fiddling, “We… we already did, Olethia.”

“You did? My, what early risers we have this year.”

“You don't realize, do you?”

Nivea's question clearly startled and confused the woman, seeing as she asked, “Realize what, dear?”

Nivea only shook her head and left without a word to speak for her outburst otherwise, leaving a squeaking Crop to sputter apologies on her behalf, catching a door she shoved open before it could smash his already frail body to smithereens before any of the other tributes had the chance as he followed.

Olethia just didn't understand anything of the districts. After all, how could she? Just as the districts believed the Capitol to be inhumane, nothing more than monsters under the guise of humanity, they believed the same for them. That must have been why they were so okay with the murders of children the same ages as their own.

It was nothing more than the equivalent of a dog fight to them, or a nature documentary of animals tearing each other apart for survival. 

Of course Olethia would not realize the real reasons for their early risings was due to having been forced awake at that ungodly hour by family members or peacekeepers around this time of year for all their lives to the point of an unbreakable habit. They had to be woken up at the crack of dawn in harvesting season, she only had to wake upon her earliest convenience. Olethia had luxury, the luxury of sleeping in when she wanted to nearly every day of her life as a child and probably even then at whatever age she had reached.

Fear did not at all impact her everyday life as it did for all those she summoned to die from her fancy stage, painted lips, and carefree Capitol life.