❝if a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows other people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. if you refuse, he kills someone you love. so you do it.❞
ontari nightfall wants revenge after seven year...
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ONTARI DIDN'T EXPECT to have this much trouble coming back to the Remake Center. She's been to the Capitol a hundred times since she won her games, and she figured that the flush of anxiety she'd felt the first time would be long gone.
She was wrong.
As soon as she reunites with her prep team — Sable, Leome, and Flaxe — and they hug and embrace her like they're about to engage in a dinner party and not the Opening Ceremony of the Quarter Quell, she feels a familiar weight settle on her shoulders. It takes every inch of her being to force her hands to stop shaking and her smile from slipping even for a second. Cassian is watching her. If she breaks, so does he.
So Ontari embraces the trio with an almost aggressive amount of enthusiasm. While her brother is taken away by his own team, she chatters with Sable aimlessly during their walk to the elevator. She isn't sure how they get on the topic of styles of stitching, but they do, and the blue-haired woman is delighted with the younger one's knowledge. She mentally praises her mother for teaching her.
"Venus has such great plans for you two this year," Leome gushes. His voice is thick in the sense that it always sounds like he's trying to speak through a large wad of chewing gum. The blue tint of his skin is both achingly familiar and also startling in the bright lighting. "You and Cassian are going to look fabulous, dear."
Ontari doesn't doubt it. In her games, she'd been dressed elaborately in a frilly gown that made her look somewhat like a marshmallow, but Venus had cut out several layers of tulle and completely transformed her in a matter of seconds. She went from a pastry to a fashion model. Now, years later and with an image to uphold, she's almost afraid of how good they'll make her look.
Then comes the tedious and painful process of being scrubbed, waxed, and plucked until her skin is raw and tingling. She'd long lost her sense of embarrassment about being naked in front of her team. It's a good thing, too, because the hours spent in the grooming process would have been much worse otherwise.
After applying a soothing lotion in recompense for the stinging of her skin, they scrub at her scalp. Her hair isn't altered in color, thankfully, because it's too dark to change in such a short amount of time. Flaxe dries her hair so it's pin-straight and impossibly smooth. It slides down her shoulders like silk when she tilts her head. When she lifts a section to her nose, she catches the faint scent of jasmine.
Once again, she's mystified by how she looks in the mirror. Once again, she hates it. This isn't her.
"Here you are, dear." Leome holds out a thin, blue robe for her to slip into. He helps her get her arms through the sleeves and gives her a pleased grin. "You're all set to go to Venus."
