┊͙✧˖*°࿐ 𝐸𝑌𝐸𝑆 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑁 | ❛ they
never thought you'd make it this far ❜
the hunger games - 68th games
&& catching fire ... mockingjay
﹙ johanna mason x fem! oc ﹚
cover by @PittieLau
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⌦ .｡.:*♡
┊͙✧˖*°࿐ THE ROOM IS DIMLY LIT and cold. Upon arrival to the underground Launch Room, Ivy shivers and wraps her arm around herself, the frigid temperature of the large room making her cheeks flush and her skin go pale. The room carries a faint metallic scent that lingers in the air, mingling with the cold. The overhead lights hum with a steady, mechanical buzz, casting a bright, sterile glow that illuminates every corner of the underground chamber. Ivy notes the glass pod in the corner of the room, and realises that soon she will be standing in it, awaiting the start of the Games. Her stomach churns, and she asks for another glass of water.
Her stylist, Esme, happily obliges. Seeking any form of solace she can find, Ivy takes a seat at the unnecessarily large dining table in the centre of the room, and is grateful when Esme returns from the kitchen with a glass of water for her, and a small bread roll. Ivy's eyes dart away from the small bread roll and she shakes her head, her voice laced with uncertainty. "I'm not sure I'll be able to eat anything right now."
Esme smiles wryly. "I know, it's difficult," she sympathises with Ivy. "But I promise you, it's for the best. Just try your best to eat as much as you can, alright?"
With a nod of acknowledgment, Ivy tentatively begins to eat. She takes small bites, and has to make a conscious effort to chew the food slowly in attempt to coax her nervous stomach into accepting the food. Grateful that Esme provided only a small roll, Ivy perseveres, determined to consume a modest portion. Once she manages to eat the whole of the bread roll, Esme hands her a pile of clothes, which Ivy finds difficult to put on because of how much her hands are shaking.
Despite this, she tries to take a deep breath as Esme slowly helps her put the clothes on. Ivy tries to bite her lip to stop herself from crying just before the Games are to begin, and focuses on a a chair tucked into the dining room table, trying to focus wholly on the chair and forget about where she is.
"There," Esme says, smiling at Ivy. "All done, see?" The clothes provide some support from the cold atmosphere of the room. Ivy wears black pants, her lower body shielded from the cold. The pants must have been meticulously crafted to provide both insulation and freedom of movement, Ivy notes, as she feels the material against her legs. The tight-fitting grey shirt clung to Ivy's lithe frame. It is a long sleeved top, Ivy not entirely sure which material it is made from. To complete her ensemble, Ivy wears a pair of black boots, that she can't help but notice how comfortable they feel.
"Would you like to sit?" Esme asks. "I can do your hair for you. I think it'll be best to keep it out of your face."
"Thank you," Ivy says, taking a seat nimbly. Esme begins to brush her hair, pulling it back into a tight ponytail and securing it with a hairband. "If I have any guesses of what the arena's going to be like, I think it'll be cold."
