oh, how she wishes
she could just be
who she once was
again...
PRE HUNGER GAMES - MOCKINGJAY
FEMALE OC X MALE OC
Cover made by the amazing @fireandbloods
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
tribute parade, two years prior
Arella simply cannot fathom the idea that the people around her at this very moment will be hunting her down in a matter of days. None of them look particularly intimidating but she knows they're all quite the opposite, especially those from the Career Districts. Most of them could likely kill her from across the room with precision, she wouldn't stand a chance. Even dressed in their extravagant, and somewhat eccentric, outfits they scare her a little.
The brunette looks down at her own outfit, a bodysuit that practically sparkles underneath the light. Her stylist, a woman who took great pleasure in dressing her up like a doll, had beamed when she showed Arella her District inspired outfit. She doesn't want to be ungrateful or even ignorant, but to her she looks like a giant piece of metal. Arella assumes it's supposed to have something to do with wires or electricity considering District Five is all about power but it doesn't feel like that at all. Poor Malcolm has been put into a very similar costume, all the way down to the silver eyeshadow dusted over his eyelids.
The one part of her get up that she is a fan of, however, is the way they've curled her hair and lined it with beautifully crafted hairpins. Those pins in her hair are likely more expensive than her entire house back in District Five. It is insane how much these people take things for granted, how happy they are to turn a blind eye to those struggling not too far from her. They think treating them like celebrities when they come to the Capitol is a good thing, all of them acting as if they aren't about to cheer on for their deaths in a matter of days.
"We look ridiculous," Malcolm mumbles lightly to her left, a frown pulling at his lips. Arella laughs softly and nods her head in agreement. "You'd think for someone so rich that these stylists would actually make us look good,"
"That's the thing, they think this does look good," Arella replies quietly, smiling slightly at his snarky comment. "Money unfortunately doesn't equal sense,"
The stench of alcohol floods her nostrils as she turns her head, a drunken Jack Solomon slowly makes his way over to the tributes. She has never met him but she's certainly seen him around home, the man has never been shy about showing himself — often stumbling through the streets and singing ridiculous tunes on his way. Arella has heard of the District Twelve mentor being very similar, perhaps that's why they're such good friends.
"So you're my tributes this year?" The man slurs, tilting his head to look at the both of them. Arella simply looks at him, not giving any sort of response. "Tough crowd. Malcolm and Aria right?"
"Arella," The girl responds somewhat harshly, annoyance slipping onto her face. This man is supposed to save them from death and he can't even remember her name. "Is there a reason you've actually shown up now?"
"It's my job, Aria. Although, let me tell you, the two of you aren't all that impressive. I see bloodbath death written all over you,"
Arella glares at the man as Malcolm flinches at her side. Jack doesn't even seem to realize that he's angered her, that or he doesn't care that he has. Their mentor gives them one last glance before walking away, apparently spotting something a little more interesting to him over their shoulder. She watches him go before turning back to her District Partner, the young boy looking to the ground.
