12 | day one
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DAY ONE
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。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚
ONTARI HAS LESS than a minute to examine her surroundings.
Still squinting into the blinding sunlight, she looks at the choppy waves that splash up onto her plate and over her feet. To her delight, the shoes seem to be waterproof. Her gaze turns to the left. Another tribute is standing on a plate not too far away— Beetee. She relaxes a fraction upon seeing a friendly face and not someone like Enobaria or Brutus.
She spots a thin strip of land between their pedestals. It seems to be made of black rock, white light glaring off of it so it's almost blinding to look at. It must be extremely hot, too, from absorbing all of that sun. This seems to be the case all around the circle. Two tributes, one strip of land. The Cornucopia connects them all at the center like spokes on a wheel.
Ontari peers over her shoulder. More land. A jungle, maybe, surrounds them in a wider ring. It's close enough to get to while everyone else retrieves supplies at the Cornucopia— not that she'll be doing that, of course. She cannot run from this.
Cassian, her brain screams. Find Cassian. But whoever planned their positions had been either smart or terribly cruel. With the sun glaring into her eyes, she can't see far enough to discern where her brother is.
Katniss and Peeta are the next step; everyone else can take care of themselves. Ontari finds the blonde-haired Baker Boy standing to her far right. Looking at Beetee, she jerks her head in that direction. He nods in understanding.
Ten seconds. Her heart pounds in time with each booming of the countdown. Five, four, three, two...
On one, Ontari doesn't hesitate. She dives in the direction of Peeta, who hadn't moved from his pedestal at the last chime of the countdown. She swims as fast as she can. It's lucky that she's capable of doing so— there are many freshwater lakes in District Eight. Maybe the case isn't the same for Twelve.
Ontari briefly submerges herself before popping back up with a forceful upward swing of her arms. She surfaces with a gasp, quickly wiping the saltwater out of her eyes to see that Peeta is no longer on the metal plate. What the hell?
She searches wildly for him, then hears a terrific splash that signals something heavy has fallen into the sea. She pushes herself toward Peeta's pedestal and heaves herself over it to peer at whatever had caused the splash.
Peeta cannot swim. That much is evident judging by the fact that his limbs swing wildly as the District Five male tribute holds him under. There's a triumphant smirk on his face, too preoccupied with his soon-to-be kill that he doesn't notice Ontari climbing above him.
She doesn't give him a warning. Weaponless and slightly tired from the forceful swim, she sucks in a breath before jumping back into the water and sending a forceful kick into the tribute's gut. He sputters, loosening his grip on Peeta enough to have her wrench it away.
Ontari pops her head up to breathe again before plunging back under. The Five man is still stunned from getting the wind knocked out of him, giving her the advantage. She grabs his ankle and tugs. Down, down, down they go until she can feel the pressure in her ears. She isn't certain how deep the water goes, but doesn't want to take the chance of dying so simply. Instead, she gives his ankle one last yank before swimming upward and locking her hands around his throat.
She's never fought someone underwater before. Both of their movements are slow, sluggish, almost. He tries to hit her, succeeding in landing a blow to her face that causes pain to blossom in her cheek. Her own chest is beginning to burn. She grits her teeth before rearing her leg back and sending another kick to his chest, pushing him farther down. It all goes to plan until the last second.
He repeats her move by grabbing her ankle and pulling her down with him.
By now, her chest is screaming, ears threatening to pop. How deep are they? Twelve feet? Fifteen? She doesn't know enough about the water to determine when things will start to get bad.
The tribute has a firm grip. He's no longer fighting back, instead accepting his fate and trying to take her down as well. She kicks her foot wildly. Her vision starts to turn black at the corners the deeper they sink. In a final, desperate move, she takes her other leg and swings it down with all her might, connecting the heel of her nylon shoe to the man's knuckles. His hand instinctively releases her. Without hesitation, Ontari rockets herself back upward.
The other tribute's cannon goes off. It's a dull thud from underwater.
As soon as her mouth is above water, she inhales deeply, gasping in a lungful of air that soothes her burning chest. Peeta has somehow made it to the rock, clutching onto it with his arms because it's too hot to touch with his hands. Katniss and Finnick are in the process of pulling him up.
Mags is the first to spot her. She jumps, jabbing her finger repeatedly into Finnick's side and pointing at her with the other. He looks up from Peeta and locks his eyes onto her. His golden hair is now brown from the water, plastered to his forehead and skin glistening. His tense face relaxes upon seeing her resurface.
Ontari's tired limbs ache as she paddles to the rock as well, leaning her elbows on a lower piece of it to rest. The heat burns through her jumpsuit. If she touched it with her bare skin, there's no doubt she would blister.
She looks back up at the group. Her chest runs cold. "Where's Cassian?"
Mags' eyes turn soft, pity filling them as she shrugs.
As they heave Peeta out of the water, Finnick responds through a grunt, "Wiress, Beetee, Johanna, Blight, and Cassian are missing. They probably escaped to somewhere else. We haven't seen their bodies."
Ontari relaxes, but only a fraction. She needs to see her brother. She needs to see for herself that he's alive.
Finnick jerks his head toward the jungle, his arm around Peeta. "We need to move out."
More swimming. Ontari almost groans in protest, reluctantly releasing the scalding rock and pushing herself back into the water.
There really isn't that much sand on the beach. It transforms into the jungle quickly, sharply rising in elevation. As soon as Ontari heaves herself onto the sand, Mags passes her a sword. She nods gratefully as the familiar weight settles into her hand.
Ontari notices Katniss warily eyeing the ring on her finger. She holds it up with a smirk, flattening her palm so the younger girl can get a better look.
"Like it?" she asks. "Did you get one as nice?"
Katniss scowls, though she must detect the sarcasm in Ontari's voice. It's a plain golden band— of course they'd been given one much better to use for their proposal.
Finnick lifts Mags onto his back, hunched over so he doesn't have to hold her up. His trident stays firmly grasped in his right hand. His eyes flicker to her briefly, relaying information with a simple gaze.
"Let's go," Ontari commands, waving them along. "We're out in the open."
Peeta takes the lead, to her surprise. He's been given a similar weapon as hers, slashing through countless leafy plants that are in their way. Finnick is second, moving quickly despite having Mags on his back. Ontari follows after a quick look at Katniss. The new victor doesn't trust any of them yet.
The air in the jungle is humid, thick with moisture that causes her to feel damp even as her jumpsuit quickly dries, or maybe that's the sweat already accumulating on her skin. The foreign air makes her feel short of breath quickly. She's a good runner, but nearly drowning isn't easy on the lungs.
At least the ground isn't hard. It's spongy, making it easier for her to move as if she's bouncing. The tricky thing is that it's covered with vines and colorful flowers. Her footsteps are quick so she can prevent herself from tripping.
After a mile, Finnick is the one to request a break, probably more for Mags' sake than his own. He easily lets her down on the ground against the trunk of the tree and sighs as he straightens his spine again.
Katniss quickly scales a tree with blinding speed to see what's going on near the Cornucopia that they left behind. As soon as she disappears from view, a feeling of unease develops in the pit of Ontari's stomach.
She'd saved Peeta's life. And the Girl on Fire still doesn't trust her.
Her blue eyes snap to Finnick, another wordless message passing between them. Ontari tightens her grip on her sword. He raises his trident in a defensive position, his lips tightening in a scowl.
Katniss doesn't know these victors. Last night, they may have clasped hands in unity, but that doesn't change some of their minds. It doesn't mean that their hunger for power has suddenly evaporated. There are people in these Games who will do anything to end up on top again.
If Cassian was here, he'd be glaring at his sister, saying, I was right.
Katniss slides to the ground. Ontari recognizes the gleam in her eyes.
"What's going on down there, Katniss?" Finnick questions in a slightly mocking tone. "Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed the weapons in the sea in defiance of the Capitol?"
Katniss stiffens, her voice hard. "No."
"No," Finnick repeats. "Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance." He eyes the Baker Boy. "Except maybe Peeta."
Finnick shifts his hind foot closer to Ontari. It's a subtle move, but enough for her to detect what he means. Not all things are in the past.
Katniss' resolve hardens. Ontari sizes her up. She has to know it's stupid to go against two such well-trained victors as herself and Finnick, but her distrust of them seems to run deep enough to try. There is no forgiveness in her eyes.
Ontari's mouth is set in a firm line, her grip on her sword never wavering. "Do you think I saved Peeta for nothing, Katniss?"
Her scowl deepens, having the opposite effect than planned. She seems right about to strike when Peeta steps directly between the three of them.
"So, how many are dead?" he asks casually.
Ontari continues to eye Katniss warily even as she responds. "Hard to say. At least six, I think. And they're still fighting."
"Let's keep moving," he suggests. "We need water."
Katniss' gaze slackens as she seems to think about something. Seconds tick by.
"Baker Boy is right," Ontari says. "None of us will survive if we don't find a water source."
"We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight," Finnick adds, still holding his trident firmly.
For a moment, Ontari is grateful that Cassian isn't around. Being near the two newbies certainly makes them more of a target, and he deserves a break from being the top choice on the Careers' kill list.
She detects the instant Katniss decides to back down. She loosens her grip on her sword and slowly lowers her arm. The petty quarrel has cost them precious moments of locating water. For all they know, another group could have claimed the only one.
They continue their trek upward in search of water, Ontari's tongue growing dry the longer they go without it. Every hair on the back of her neck stands up in alert. Katniss still brings up the rear, and she could very well shoot an arrow into her back. She focuses her hearing behind her in case she needs to detect the click of an arrow.
"Maybe we'll have better luck on the other side," Katniss suggests as they reach the end of the tree line. "Find a spring or something."
Nobody replies as they move, Peeta slashing out his sword to rid their path of the vines. Behind Ontari, Katniss sucks in a breath.
Then she's screaming. "PEETA!"
His sword connects with another vine, only it doesn't give way. There's a sharp zapping sound as his weapon hits the force field that encloses the arena. He flies backward, landing hard on his back on the forest floor.
Katniss cracks into motion faster than anyone else. Ontari is momentarily stunned from the situation, forced to watch as she sinks to her knees beside him. Her nose twitches at the acrid scent of burnt hair.
The Girl on Fire leans in toward Peeta. She rests her head on his chest, waits, then lets out a choked sound at what she hears. Or, more like what she doesn't hear.
"Peeta!" her voice is shrill, desperate, full of real agony. She resorts to shaking him. Slaps his face in the hope of a response. "Peeta!"
"Let me," Finnick demands, propping Mags back up against a tree and touching points on Peeta's neck. His hands run over the bones in his ribcage. He pinches Peeta's nostrils shut, intending to blow air into his lungs, but Katniss doesn't realize that.
"No!" she cries, hurling herself at the blond in an almost animal-like fashion. His hand merely smacks out and hits her so hard that she goes flying backward. Ontari races toward her, hauling her back to her feet with the blade of her sword pressed against Katniss' neck so she doesn't get any funny ideas.
The girl stills against her. Her breath turns shallow, fists curling at her sides in a clear threat.
"Don't even think about it," Ontari hisses in Katniss' ear, making sure the blade is pressed firmly against her neck even if she won't do any real harm. "Look."
And, for the first time, Katniss does look. She realizes that Finnick is not trying to suffocate Peeta even further. That he's giving him mouth-to-mouth in hopes to get him breathing again. Katniss relaxes, allowing Ontari to release the sword from her neck in confidence that she won't try to kill Finnick.
The District Four boy presses the heels of his hands firmly to Peeta's chest, muttering words of encouragement under his breath as he pumps it. Katniss watches with her face slack in desperation. Tears well in her eyes as the minutes tick by.
Just when Ontari starts to give up hope, Peeta coughs and Finnick sits back.
Katniss flings herself at the boy, whispering his name softly as her fingers brush the blond hair from his forehead. The action is full of such raw tenderness that Ontari feels the sudden urge to avert her eyes.
Slowly, his eyelashes flutter open. "Careful. There's a force field up ahead."
In spite of the tears rolling down her face, Katniss laughs.
Ontari tunes out of the rest of their conversation, considering it private even though they must be on the television right now. This moment would be enough to give a Capitol woman a heart attack.
As Finnick tries to catch his breath, he meets her eyes. Ontari mouths, "Good job."
He nods, seeming satisfied with his hard work. His shoulders heave as he fights to catch his breath.
Ontari's brow furrows when Katniss starts to emit bizarre choking sounds. She's clearly trying to hide them by placing a hand over her mouth, but it's not doing much to make them less obvious.
"Katniss?" Peeta questions in a concerned tone. The Baker Boy, concerned about her, after he all but died a few minutes ago.
"It's okay," Finnick says matter-of-factly. "It's just hormones from the baby."
Sponsors better be watching right now.
"No. It's not—" Katniss cuts herself off by another series of hysterical sobs that only seem to prove his point. She glares at him through her tears.
Finnick, confused, glances between the two of them as if trying to figure something out. Then, he shakes his head to clear it. He addresses Peeta. "How are you? Do you think you can move on?"
"No, he has to rest," Katniss asserts. Ontari raises an eyebrow at the firmness in her voice. She'd been skeptical about the truth behind their romance, but it's clear now. She cares about him.
"Should we start setting up camp?" Ontari asks meaningfully, cutting into another one of their side conversations. Her throat is parched, causing her voice to come out somewhat hoarse.
Not that there is anything to set up camp with. The cornucopia hadn't provided them with any supplies whatsoever, only stocked full of weapons. The mere thought of the situation makes Ontari's gut wrench. They probably won't end up needing blankets if the humidity continues to stifle them at night, but water bottles, backpacks, or tents would be useful.
"I don't think that's an option," Peeta answers. "Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly."
"Slowly is better than not at all," Finnick agrees as he clasps hands with the other blond and helps him to his feet.
Katniss takes the lead after a short argument. Since she claims she can hear the force field due to the doctors fixing her left ear up so well, she is the first person to go, trying to find an end to the field and a way over the crest.
Ontari feels sluggish. The fight in the water had taken too much out of her, especially for a first fight. She should have more strength— it isn't good to be so tired a few hours after the Games start. If they get attacked, adrenaline will help, but she'll only end up even more exhausted afterward.
Finnick bumps into her shoulder, careful to choose the side not holding the sword. "You okay?"
Ontari nods. "Yeah."
From her position on his back, Mags gives her a disbelieving frown, the wrinkles around her mouth set deep into her soft skin.
Ontari wants nothing but to collapse into his arms and bawl her eyes out. She desperately wants to admit to him that she's not fine, that she's never fine. He's the only one who could truly understand. All of his loved ones were taken from him— Mags, Annie, and the Nightfall family are all he has left.
But she doesn't do this. Instead, her mouth puckers into a frown as she walks, another one of her many masks.
Katniss stops them after an hour of finding absolutely nothing. She turns around, noting the subtle hunch of Ontari's shoulders, the thin sheen of sweat on Peeta's face, and how Finnick keeps shifting Mags to a more comfortable position.
"Let's take a break," she suggests. "I need to get another look from above."
Finnick sets his former mentor down onto a patch of soft moss, placing his trident on the ground to stretch his muscled arms over his head. His golden hair has partially dried so the strands curl around his ears and over his forehead. The humidity is making it more puffy than usual.
Peeta sits down with a relieved sigh, stretching his leg out. If she remembers correctly, he'd gotten a prosthetic after injuring it so badly in the last Games. It's hidden by his jumpsuit, but she knows it must be killing him.
Ontari glances around at her shaky alliance. "I'll take watch."
"O," Finnick says, and the soothing tone he uses is shocking to her. He's worn a mask of his own this entire time. Now it's starting to slip for her as he gently takes her wrist.
She turns so she's facing him, letting him run a feather-light hand down her cheek and eventually tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The ponytail Venus had done is already wrecked. Flyaway strands frame her face, sticking to it.
Finnick's seafoam-green eyes search her own, his hand resting to cup her cheek. She instinctively leans into his touch a bit. His face is etched with concern, damp with the moisture from the air and his own sweat, as is hers. But he's still beautiful to her.
She wants to kiss him just because she can, so she does. Ontari leans forward and presses her lips to his, both slightly chapped from the saltwater. It's more caring than she's used to.
Are they on the television right now? How awkward for her parents to be watching. Maybe Hestia will be pleased. Then again, a part of her had wanted Finnick to herself, so maybe not.
Moments later, Katniss lands with a thud, catching the end of their embrace. "The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don't know how high it goes. There's the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large."
"Did you see any water?" Finnick asks, his voice devoid of the gentleness he'd used with Ontari.
"Only the saltwater where we started the Games," she says.
"There must be some other source," Peeta says with a frown. "Or we'll all be dead in a matter of days."
"Well, the foliage is thick," Katniss points out, though her voice is doubtful. "Maybe there are ponds or springs somewhere. At any rate, there's no point in trying to find out what's over the edge of this hill, because the answer is nothing."
"There must be drinkable water between the force field and the wheel," Peeta insists.
Everyone knows what this means. Going closer to the Cornucopia. Toward the Careers. And toward infinitely more danger.
_______
lol i almost posted this without an author's note waddup
i have nothing to say so i'll see ya next time i guess ??
— kristyn
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