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Cashmere couldn't hide the amusement from her face at the girl's rambling. "It's alright." She said gently. "But yes, I did already watch all of the reapings. It's the best way to get a quick look at your competititors. You should do so as well. I'm sure Finn has."
Cashmere sighed heavily at the girl's enthusiasm. She looked the girl up and down with a slight frown before managing to turn the corners of her lips upwards though it was far from reaching her eyes. "Yes, I am." She gave a small nod.
"And you're Alana Fisker, District Four." She had watched all the reapings to get a clue in on the tributes this year. She'd go bother Finnick later to get more intel, if he'd give her any.
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Cashmere had to scoff at his arrogance. Was she like this at eighteen years old? Possibly, she had been riding on the high of both her brother having won the year before and being chosen right after him. No one could beat him if he got a longsword? Before she could even ask what his plan was if there wasn't one though, he kept talking. And she let him.
Having a specialty wasn't unheard of, but also still being good enough at the other weapons was a necessary requirements. And she did remember Halcyon. He had been one that was excellent at anything put before him. Even if Silver could best him with a long sword, that didn't mean much to Cashmere when there was no promise of a long sword. And if the boy was as cocky as he was about the long sword int he Capitol as he seemed to be with her, well she knew the Gamemakers could just decide not to put one in the cornucopia just to mess with him.
She sighed slightly as he stepped away and retook his seat only to reveal no one had come to say goodbye to him. She'd been there. Gloss had been too. Their parents didn't believe in affection or really any emotion, making she and Gloss the only thing the other had.
"You don't need your parents and your friends, Silver. Fuck if Gloss and I believe in your either." She shrugged. "You need to believe in yourself and you've certainly got that down it appears. I don't blame anyone back home for being pissed with you. I was eighteen when I volunteered," it was common knowledge, "I would have been livid if someone took that chance from me. You weren't the only eighteen year old that wanted to volunteer but wasn't picked. You are however the one who took that chance from another person who won't have another chance next year because he'll be ninteen."
"You have a mentor that might vouch for you." She admitted, moving to take a seat across from him. "But if I say jump, you better ask how far and how high. If you don't, you'll be stuck with Gloss and kid... he's angry and already counting you out." She might be able to change that, might be. But right now she was leaving him be. "I only need one tribute to put on a good show and to have my support in that arena and well, she's already got it. I like your guts, but I don't need you."
She was relenting, but not giving in completely. She was always more level headed than her brother. If Silver could prove himself, she'd back him.
Yup, was definitely expecting that.
He knew the first question was rhetorical, so he waited for the inevitable follow up. When she asked, all of his planning went out the window. This was his mentor, one of the only people who was basically contractually obligated to help him. Maybe she wouldn't be rooting for him (she was from District 1 after all), but she wouldn't put her career as a mentor on the line just to screw him over.
Right?
So, he figured the best thing he could do in this moment is be honest.
"This... this wasn't a spur of the moment decision," he started, rubbing his hands together anxiously as he tried to balance between looking her in the eyes to show he was serious and looking at the floor for his own comfort. "I've been thinking it over ever since I was told I wasn't the choice, which... yeah, been about a year now."
He sighed before he continued. "You've met my teachers, ask any of them; no one can beat me if I get my hands on a longsword. Literally no one in that arena has a chance if I do. But... yeah, I'm fully aware there's no guarantee that I'll get one, but I'm not total shit at other weapons, like what's wrong with having a specialty? I was even better than Halcyon before he made it into the arena, and people still fucking loved him."
Halcyon's death was only during the 73rd games; she probably remembered him. Brilliant, charming, good at every weapon he got his hands on, but Silver at 16 could still beat him sparring, so didn't that say something about Silver? Shouldn't that have given him some credibility?
"I just... this was my last chance, alright? What was I going to do with my life if I didn't compete? All I know is how to be a warrior, and a fucking good one. And I hate kids, so teaching is off the table."
He took a step forward towards her and met her eyes and didn't let them go; he was going to make this point as clear as possible. "I will do everything possible to win. I'll do everything you tell me to do. I may be a warrior, but I've never gotten a chance to prove it and you did and came out the other side, so you know more than me. Fuck, I'll hang off of every word you say if it'll help you be more confident in my abilities, just..."
He trailed off as he took a seat in his chair before sighing again. His voice was quieter as he continued. "No one said goodbye to me. Not what few friends I have, not my parents, no one. So I know I'm ultimately alone in my belief in me, but... I hope maybe I have one mentor who's willing to give me their guidance. Because if I really am as unprepared as they said, well... my only shot is going to be listening to you guys and somehow getting sponsors to like me."
It was at that point that he looked up and waited for a response to his little monologue; he hoped his sincerity was showing.
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ACCEPTED - District 1 Victor
laura harrier, she/her, admin j | hey! did you see them? i swear i saw cashmere dior walk by. don’t you know, they’re a victor and they’re from district 1 & have been since the 64th hunger games. they're 29 years old and in that time they’ve become known as intelligent & conniving. when i think of them, i think of castle by halsey & jewels and gold, a wardrobe to die for, the scent of lavendar and vanilla, and a look that could kill.
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"Hmm.." Cashmere hummed slightly. She was sure it wasn't the girl's finest moment, but again, more decorum.
"I am." She gave a nod, suppressing the look of slight surprise on her face. She supposed Three was a high enough district that they kept up with some things because Cashmere was not naive enough to think that she was a fresh spring chicken when it came to the Victors. She'd won nearly a decade ago and yet the girl knew her name and her district. It was impressive. "And yes I was. Both my brother and I. We started training when we were... twelve." Though that was a lie. They'd begun training long before that, but the rules were what they were even if One, Two and Four got away with breaking them. She'd just never admit as such in the Capitol.
"It definitely makes a difference, but there's always the years when the underdogs take the crown." She shrugged.
Pike's eyes widened a bit at the thought of someone here biting, but then she realized oh that was a joke and laughed a bit too forcefully once. "Great," she said with a nod, glad to find someone willing to help. Though, she supposed Cashmere was a mentor; it would make sense that she was a helpful person.
Pike nodded again, her smile fading in embarrassment. "Y-yeah, um... not my finest moment," she said, trying to be jokingly and likably self-deprecating. Her lack of physical skills and killer instinct were going to be no help in the arena; her only hope now was to be as likable as possible.
Which, for her, was not going to be easy.
"You're from One, right?" she asked, trying to make light conversation. "So you were, like, trained for this and everything?"
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"Of course. We don't bite... well Eno does, but she's not here this year." It was a poor joke, but she had tried. Cashmere could tell the girl was nervous. She didn't blame her. Most of the kids here were, except the ones that hailed from districts like her own, kids who had trained for this. But Cashmere had been in this long enough to know that it didn't matter a lick if you'd trained all your life if you also weren't smart. That was where kids like Pike could hold the upper hand.
"Yes," she admitted, "I did see it. I make a habit of watching all the reapings. They can give invaluable information about your opponents." She'd found over the years they were an early indicator that could narrow down who'd make it and who wouldn't. Cashmere didn't think Pike would win, that she would make it past the first day, but she had more decorum than to voice those thoughts aloud.
Pike's eyes widened a bit as she realized who she had disturbed with her antics; Cashmere. She had been too young to see her games, but she had seen her on TV a few times with interviews and such since she became a victor.
Wow, she's even more beautiful in person.
"O-oh, thank you," she said genuinely before her eyes somehow got bigger. Cashmere knew her name? It took her a second to realize of course she did; she probably watched that disaster of a Reaping.
Well, at least I'm memorable?
"Yeah, um... that's me!" she said, trying to appear cheerful, or at least not constantly thinking about her upcoming demise. "You, uh... y-you saw the Reaping, I take it?"
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It was while Cashmere sat there on that stage, lips pursed, hands folded neatly in her lap, ankles crossed, that she decided the boy was out of his damned mind. She wouldn't let it show on her face, not past the look she shared with her brother for a split second before her expression returned to blank and her gaze to the cameras.
It'd been in the Justice Building that she and Gloss stole away to the hot upper level where they'd long since learned there were no cameras. Storage where whispers could be shared without Snow himself watching. They'd been heated whispers this time. Gloss had chosen the boy who was supposed to volunteer, written his name on a little slip of paper, just as every other victor in the district. There was no chance anyone but the chosen boy would be headed to the game. At least not until this little shit decided to steal the chance when it wasn't his chance to steal. But Gloss had been the one to choose within the Academy and so Cashmere had talked her brother down, told him she'd deal with Silver and come find him later.
So that was what she was doing. She'd made sure Gloss was on the other end of the train and then went in search of the boy. When she finally found him, she paused in the doorway of the train car before shutting it. Thankfully he was alone. It seemed the girl had made herself scarce. Cashmere would find her later.
"Are you out of your everliving, fucking mind?" She demanded. She might've talked Gloss down from killing the boy, but they fed off of one another, always feeling what the other felt. Twins were like that. And Gloss was still pissed. "What in the world were you thinking?" He had guts, she'd give him that. Everyone in One hated him now. No one would mourn him if he lost.
@xdecadencex
Silver was pacing back and forth in the train car, trying to think of the words he was going to use to explain himself. He knew the first question out of his mentor's mouth would probably be "What the hell were you thinking?" so he was figuring out his exact answer.
"I did what was best for the District?" No, too arrogant. "I was thinking I could succeed where my brother failed?" Would that be seen as disrespectful to the dead? I mean, he did lose...
He didn't have more time to think before the door to the train car opened and his mentor entered.
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She sighed softly, a frown turning down her lips when she realized just why it was that the boy from Two had looked familiar. She'd been about to offer her sympathies though when Arachne's tone changes and she realized that perhaps the sponsor had been rougher than she'd thought. She felt Arachne's gentle touch against her skin. She took a deep breath, ready to shrug her friend off, but then the other woman was spouting threats and Cashmere spun to face her quickly.
An ochre hand was quick to clamp over tawny hued lips. "Shut up, Arachne." She didn't often use the other woman's actual name, preferring the nickname that only she got to call her. "You know they are always listening." It was said barely above a whisper as she leaned in close to Arachne. Even in the seeming privacy of her room, anything they did or said was being watched. "If you want any chance of bringing Lazarus home alive, then you shut up." It was a warning for what she knew would very well happen if Arachne kept it up. Lazarus would fall victim to some Gamemaker stunt.
Arachne frowned at the mention of her tributes. "Justice's little brother volunteered." She whispered. And therein lay the real reason she'd ran away from her own floor and her own team. She'd killed Justice and now was responsible for keeping his baby brother alive. Lazarus had only been nine when she and Justice had volunteered. He had still been in the basics of training and now here he was, fucking volunteering. She'd just lost Clove. She was still haunted by loosing Justice. She couldn't loose Lazarus too.
But when Cashmere said she could stay, she melted a bit. Some of the apprehension that settled between her shoulders dispersed. She could breathe a little easier.
She scooted to the edge of the bed and reached to the zipper, pulling it down carefully. As she did so though, she frowned, her fingers tracing over the outline of what appeared to be a bruise on Cash's shoulder. "Cashy..." She murmured, brows knitting together. "I'll fucking kill him. Who was it?" She demanded, anger flaring back into place. It wasn't the first time she'd threatened to kill a sponsor, and she knew he was a sponsor, whoever he was.
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Cashmere sighed heavily at the girl's enthusiasm. She looked the girl up and down with a slight frown before managing to turn the corners of her lips upwards though it was far from reaching her eyes. "Yes, I am." She gave a small nod.
"And you're Alana Fisker, District Four." She had watched all the reapings to get a clue in on the tributes this year. She'd go bother Finnick later to get more intel, if he'd give her any.
She didn't know where Finnick was, and honestly she didn't care. Not at that point at least. She'd slipped away from their escort and went about exploring the tower. Spotting a familiar face, well at least she knew who the other was, the petite blonde hurried over, grinning from ear to ear.
"No way," she spoke, words dripping with honey, "you're Cashmere. Like... that Cashmere."
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Cashmere needed a coffee, or energy drink, or something caffeinated if she were going to make it through the day. She was a night owl, up all hours of the night, and typically slept until noon or later. So, getting up before the sun even rose to be greeted by her entirely too perky stylist team on Reaping day was never something she enjoyed.
Thankfully, in all the renovations over the last year, they hadn't gotten rid of the coffee shop on the lobby floor of the Tribute Tower and she'd managed to secure herself an extra-large latte with an extra shot of expresso. She was leaning against a table in the lobby watching the Flickerman family's first impressions of the tributes. It took much for her to not roll her eyes at their antics.
She was in the middle of a sip of her coffee when she heard someone behind her. Cashmere turned to see who was talking and offered a small smile. "Of course. They didn't change that at least with the renovations. Each district has their own floor. So, find the elevators and you'll find you're way there. I can show you."
Cashmere looked the girl up and down. "You're Pike right?" She'd watched all the reapings before even stepping foot in the Capitol.
Pike liked to think of herself as intelligent. She was frail, she was awkward, she was terrible with people, but brains? Brains she had.
So it was very embarrassing that she basically walked into the Capitol building and got lost immediately.
Nothing here looked familiar except for the televisions on the walls, and those were no help to finding where her escort ran off to. There seemed to be some soap opera on one of them, which couldn't hold Pike's attention for very long; she had too much on her mind. She kept walking around, trying to pretend like she knew where she was going and definitely not just wandering and hoping for the best. Nope. Absolutely not.
After... well, she wasn't sure how long, time was an illusion to her ever since her name was called, she decided that asking for help would be better than getting completely lost and wandering into some restricted area and getting in trouble; she didn't want to make any enemies when her life was about to be in a lot of these people's hands.
She approached the next person she saw, their back to her so she couldn't know who it was.
"E-Excuse me," she greeted, annoyed that she was already stuttering; her nervous habit that she had been trying to break since she was little. "I'm um... I'm so sorry, I'm... really lost, do you know how to get to the District Three area?"
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Cashmere hadn't even been in the Capitol for an hour before getting a call from Snow. She hated the man, but more than that hatred was the protectiveness she felt over those she cared for. Gloss, their parents, Arachne. She knew what happened to victors who stepped a toe out of line. She'd been gone for a few hours and returned back to her own floor, high tailing it back to her own room where she could shower and decompress.
However, when she entered her room, she found she wasn't alone. Most people would've gotten yelled at, at the very least for just taking up residence in her room. Ara was another story. She sighed softly, reaching behind herself to shut the door behind her, locking it as well. "Don't you have tributes to mentor?" She questioned. Her fingers moved around to the back of her own neck, unclasping the necklace there and tossing it to the top of her dresser. Her earrings were the next to go. Then the rings around her fingers. And finally the bracelets. With each piece, she deflated a little more.
"I don't care. You know that, Ara. I need a shower before I can be any company though." She kicked out of her heels and moved towards the bed. "If you're gonna take over my room, at least unzip me?" She turned her back to her friend, pulling her hair around her shoulders.
@xdecadencex
Arachne didn't want to be here. Not with Cato. Not with Eddie. Not with anyone. Clove had died the year before. She'd had to go on Cato's victory tour with him. She was over it. And if that wasn't enough. Justice wouldn't leave her alone.
She couldn't be on the second floor, just couldn't deal with the familiarity, the memories, the haunting of everything from the past. She'd already shed the stupidly girly dress her stylist had forced her into for the reaping - since when did she wear pink? - and pulled on a familiar flannel that hung big enough on her frame to almost be a dress. Before Eddie could stop her, she'd disappeared from the second floor and made herself at home on District One's floor - specifically behind the closed door of Cashmere's bedroom.
Arachne had helped herself to a platter of strawberries and a bottle of wine undoubtedly left out for One's team in the lobby, glaring at an avox who looked as if he might try to stop her. Now she laid across Cashmere's bed with what remained of the strawberries beside her and the half empty bottle of wine on the other woman's nightstand, a glass of the red liquid in hand.
The sound of the door opening didn't phase her. Green hues merely swept up to meet brown. "Can I sleep here tonight?" She asked instead of greeting Cashmere. It wasn't even afternoon yet.
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Being one of the first to arrive had it's benefits, such as time to get settled in, the ability to explore the newly renovated Tribute Tower, time to get a coffee. But it also had its detriments. One of those such detriments was where she was returning from in the early hours of evening. Running errands for Snow was never pleasant business, but at least she hadn't had to bring Gloss along. Those errands were always especially disturbing.
She was trying to make her way to the elevator, needing to get back to her own room and out of the public eye if only for a few moments, when someone approached her. "Can I help you?" She asked, glancing to the other in expectation.
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♡ LAURA HARRIER via instagram ( lauraharrier )
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