The Flying Fish (Exocoetidae)|| Finnick Odair X Fem!OC

Victor

Her chest heaved as she took deep breaths. Her body was strewn with cuts from Cliff's blade, her arms and chest covered in slices and cuts. She had done it. She was the victor.

She'd won the fucking Hunger Games. The trumpets ring throughout the arena, the loud noise causing her to jump. The Capitol hovercraft lowered it's ladder and she grabbed on, her body being frozen in place. It was a weird sensation, being frozen. Her muscles didn't move, she was barely able to breathe, and she couldn't blink. When the ladder re-entered the aircraft, the suspension stopped and she collapsed on the ground from the sudden release.

"What the..." she mumbles as one of the technicians sets her on the table.

"Don't worry dear, we'll have you right as rain in no time." Those are the last words she hears as a needle is injected in her back, knocking her out.

----------------------------------------------------

The air smells sterile. Not like the woods, but like a hospital. Or a mental ward. Her eyes shoot open as she looks around frantically. An Avox girl walks in with a tray of food, Cress' stare quickly jerking towards her. She stares her down as the girl approaches hesitantly, placing the tray in front of her. On it is a bowl of clear broth, a small container of what Cress assumed to be applesauce, and a cup of water.

The girl quickly turned and left, leaving Cress to eat her food. She started tentatively, taking small bites as to not overwhelm her stomach. She'd been knocked out for a few days, she assumes, as there was usually a gap between when a victor wins and when they're presented to the Capitol. There are small scars on her arms and chest that pair with the bigger ones that look like slices. She cleared her throat and spoke a few words, testing her voice. Raspy from lack of use, as she'd guessed.

When she tried to get up, something cold flowed into her arm through the tube, knocking her out once more.

Everytime she woke up, her scars had faded and her body had regained some fullness. Her curves, mostly muscle anyway, hadn't been affected much by the lack of food in the Games, but her cheeks were hollower than normal and her eyes had sunken slightly into their sockets.

By the third time she woke up, there was no sign of her ever being in the Games. Every single scar on her body had been erased, even old ones from before she'd entered the arena. Her bronze hair was vibrant again, her nails were polished and perfect ovals, her skin smooth like silk.

It freaked her out. The tube had been removed from her arm, so she tried to stand. She was fully prepared to fall over from lack of use in her legs, but to her surprise she was steady. There was an outfit on the end of the bed, the one that all the tributes had been given during the Games.

This one was new, it had no blood or dirt on it. She put in on, her skin protesting the feeling of the material. It felt wrong to wear it, wrong to wear the outfit that so many had died in. She wandered out of her room, searching for someone she recognised. Cress turns the corner and enters a large chamber, where her entire glam team is waiting along with Finnick and the escort who's name she couldn't remember.

"I don't care, you aren't going to fucking modify her!" Finnick was yelling, restrained by Sorrel as he yelled down a phone of sorts. "If you even touch her, I'll-"

"Finnick?" she asks tentatively, her voice hoarse. Finnick's gaze snaps towards her and he drops the phone like it was molten.

"Cress," he whispers, his eyes widening. After a moment of him just staring at her, he sprints towards her and scoops her up into a bone crushing hug. "You're okay." His voice breaks and he buries his face in her shoulder.

"Better," she says softly, the unspoken 'now that you're here' not needing to be said. Sorrel coughs behind them, causing their gazes to jerk towards him.

"Sorry to interrupt your reunion, but I believe that Tazzel might combust if he doesn't get to speak," he says dryly. Tazzel was going red in the face before he leaped at Cress.

"Oh Cress, you made it! I just knew you could do it, I just knew! I told them, I told them that you would!" he wails, hugging her tightly. "You won, oh you did so well!"

"Hi Tazzel," she says, her lips curling into a half smile at Tazzel's reaction. With Tazzel still sobbing into her shirt, she shakes Saffrin and Sorrel's hands. "Sorrel, Saffrin."

"Congratulations on your victory, Cress." Saffrin offers a thin smile, an unusual show of emotion from her.

"I never doubted you once," Sorrel whispers to her, winking at her. That earns a small smile that was an actual real one. Finnick had his arms crossed, miffed that he'd been pushed away from Cress' side.

"I think it's time for Cress to get ready," Finnick says, his jaw clenched slightly. "Sorrel?"

"You're right, you're right." he nods. "Can someone help me rip Tazzel off of her so she can walk?" It takes both Finnick and Sorrel to remove Tazzel's iron grip on Cress. Once he'd been removed successfully, they head up to the lobby from what she assumed was the hospital area of the Tribute Center. It was deep underground, below even the Training Area.

They walk through the lobby quickly, workers ogling Cress as they went by quickly. Once they got up to the fourth floor, she was given some real food. A large haddock, cooked very well and drizzled in tartar sauce. It also came with carrots and rolls. Her portions were being controlled, but Saffrin snuck her a second helping of fish.

They all go back to Cress' room and Sorrel leaves to prepare her outfit while Saffrin and Tazzel assess her looks.

"Oh, full body polish, very interesting. It's doing wonders for your skin, not that you needed it anyway," Tazzel observes. "Your skin was incredible even before the polish, I must know your secrets."

"Um... yeah, totally," she says, turning in the mirror. Her cheekbones jutted out of her face, her eyes had sunken slightly, and her ribs were countable. Her curves, mostly made up of muscle, had remained mostly unchanged. They gave her a bath, Tazzel insisting that he deep clean her hair after 'its horrible treatment in the arena', as he put it.

They both talked about the Games for almost the whole duration of Cress' glam session. They never asked her anything, it was all about their experience and how it was for them.

"When you killed that girl from 7, I had just taken a sip of water and would you believe that I spit it out all over Effie? She was not pleased to say the least," Tazzel chatters, his comb ripping the knots from her hair.

"I was getting my lashes done when Ferric killed that tribute that had gone mad," Saffrin says, her voice carrying it's usual monotone. The mention of Ferric sent stabs of pain through Cress' body, feeling like she was being stabbed with a rusty knife. After what felt like forever, Sorrel re-entered with a simple pale blue dress.

"Try this on." he hands it to her and she slides into it. Cress immediately notices the padding in the chest area and raises her eyebrow quizzically. "The Gamemakers were going to alter your body surgically. That's what Finnick was yelling about over the phone." Her heart sank but she nodded. She was starting to turn to the mirror when Saffrin handed her shoes.

"To complete the look." Saffrin helps her put on the white heels, they were simple but elegant. "Perfect."

"Now Cress, I want you to look in the mirror," Sorrel instructs, and she complies.

"Holy sh-" she slaps her hand over her mouth when she sees what Sorrel had done. Her dress looked like water, it shifted and changed at the slightest movement. "Sorrel, it's wonderful." The pearls made a comeback once more, her earrings being pearl as well as a necklace.

"A true princess of the sea." Tazzel smiles, wiping a tear from his eye.

"You're ready," Sorrel says, gently putting his hand on her shoulder. "You've got this."

"Show them what you're made of."