Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the support and for reading this far! I hope you are enjoying it!!!

Make sure to comment, tell me if you like it! We are almost done with Scarlet's Victory Tour! I hope you've enjoyed it so far. 

Take care and stay safe!~ CANGEL <3

***

District 4: The Feast

Scarlet Wolfe

     When they finally got back to the boat dock, Scarlet had the privilege of seeing Penelope's angry red face first. Oh, her face wasn't red because she was angry, nor was it red because of her time in the sun. It was scarlet red because that was her chosen face powder for the occasion. In an effort to match Scarlet's dress. It was a very, very poor choice on her end because the heat and humidity of District 4 was causing it to clump with her facial lines and her sweat had created red streaks down her face.

     Most of the time, Penelope would simply stick her nose up and huff her disappointment. Penelope must be feeling a little braver berating her for taking off on her with so few people here to witness it. She noticed that the entire entourage and camera crews were missing from the current attendance.

     Finnick was of course, present. He was the one that tied there little raft to the boat dock, anchoring it to the dock so it wouldn't float away. Scarlet waited in the boat, while watching him and his easy movements, while only paying half attention to her escort.

     Unfortunately for Penelope, Scarlet didn't take well to any sort of discipline, especially when it was coming from her.

     "It was my idea." Scarlet saw Finnick say, trying to curb Penelope Bright's growing ire. 

     Scarlet could have told him it was of no use. That if something went wrong, then it was sure to be Scarlet's fault—though, it normally was, either intentionally, or unintentionally. This time, though, it was entirely Finnick Odair's fault. He was the one who had led her out the back door and he should be the one to get into trouble.

     However, nothing could ever stick to the Golden Boy even as he tried to take responsibility. According to Penelope, it was to be expected, after all. Whatever could Finnick do, when left all alone with the Wicked Wolfe? She was such a bad influence and who could blame poor young Finnick?

     Scarlet used the excuse to grab her heels, mask, and her coin purse to look away and hide her eye roll. If she had to see another word come from Penelope's mouth, Scarlet was going to commit murder.

     When she looked up, she saw Finnick standing near the edge of the dock, his arm extended outwards toward her.

     She reached for his hand to steady her as she left the raft, but a red skinned claw reached out to grab her hand first. Scarlet stared at the hand for a moment, not in shock, but in disbelief. When was the last time anyone outside of Cadmium had willingly touched her, apart from the necessity of getting her attention? She raised her eyes to the red skinned woman attached to the clawed hand, and saw the disgust and distaste written clear as day on Penelope Brights face.

     Scarlet wasn't angry as she did what she did next, but she also couldn't stop herself, even though she knew it was probably going to cost her. As Scarlet stood up in the raft it rocked against the water, tipping back and forth. While Scarlet knew enough about the little boat to know that she shouldn't stand straight up unless she wanted to take a dive into the sea, she did it anyways.

     With Penelope still yelling at her and no one really paying attention to Scarlet, it was easy to change their grips so that it was Scarlet holding on to her wrist instead of the other way around. Scarlet took a single step toward the front of the boat, the wobbling and tipping really did through Scarlet off balance, but while she could have fallen into the boat, Scarlet chose not too.

     With Penelope's wrist tight in her hand, Scarlet 'tripped' and fell straight into the salty sea water. As her body crashed into the sea, Scarlet had never felt more satisfaction as she did when she saw Penelope Bright's eyes wide with shock and horror as she careened toward the water right along with her.

     The water surrounded Scarlet, stealing the air. For a brief moment, as Scarlet was disoriented, her body not sure what was up and which way was down, panic erased any pleasure Scarlet had felt. But then her toes touched the sandy bottom and Scarlet pushed off of it. Her face broke water only a second later. If she stood on her tiptoes, she could still touch the sandy floor and keep her face above the water's surface.

     Scarlet wiped her eyes, trying to clear the salty sting, and stopped for a brief moment when her hand came away black. Her makeup.

     Oops.

      She swung around, splashes of water hit her face as she was greeted with the sight of Penelope shrieking, arms flailing, makeup smearing and running down her face and neck, and her hair literally floating away.

      Satisfaction welled up inside of her at the scene in front of her as others try to reach for her to help her out, at least until she caught sight of the disappointed look on Finnick's face. Scarlet tried to ignore it. And the way it made her feel. A little bad, but not too much. She was supposed to be wicked after all. But the fact that she seemed to care, even the smallest bit about what Finnick thought, was a problem. Because Scarlet had never cared before. Not even about what Cadmium thought of her. Not what the old man at the store thought of her. Not what her parents or her siblings or any of District 14.

     She'd listen to them upon occasion, if they managed to outreason her, but when it came down to it, she would do what she wanted and chose to do.

     But apparently Finnick's opinion—of all people's—was something she was starting to care about.

     She pushed off the bottom of the sandy bottom, toward Penelope. She grabbed the side of the boat as her feet could no longer find the bottom and used it to support her as she grabbed Penelope Bright by her upper arm.

     Penelope tried to get away, her face was panicked and Scarlet quickly tired of fighting the grown woman. She wouldn't have bothered, except Finnick was still giving her the disappointed look. Scarlet noticed he didn't actually bother to help, other than to hold his arm out. She knew he could've just dived right in and saved her in a second. So, what right did he have to judge her?

     She shoved Penelope away from her and into Finnick's waiting hand, probably a little harder than needed. Scarlet didn't fail to notice that Penelope went so willingly into his arms.

     Scarlet used the boat to propel herself a little further away and grabbed Penelope's wig just before it floated out of reach.

      When Scarlet pulled herself back in the direction of the dock, she saw Penelope's dramatic form sprawled out across the wood. Scarlet allowed Finnick to pull her body out of the water and then she pushed away from him, still irritated at the way he affected her.

     She bent down next to Penelope and patted her shoulder a bit harder than needed.

      Penelope glared at her, her mouth puckered up and ready to release something distasteful and ugly into the air.

     This time, Scarlet probably deserved it.

      But that didn't mean that Scarlet wanted to wait and see what it was.

     "I think you dropped something." Without waiting, Scarlet plopped the drenched wig on top of Penelope's head.

      She swatted Scarlet's head away, sputtering out what looked like "Y-y-yo—"

     Scarlet sighed. "I know. I know. You wicked little girl—" The feel of her hand against my cheek processed first as Scarlet's face is suddenly pointed toward the water. The sting of her face processed next. The full implication hitting her like a second hit. Penelope Bright just slapped her.

     Scarlet felt a hand on her back, and she just knew who it belonged to without even looking, but embarrassment heated her face along with the familiar sting of a hard slap and Scarlet pulled away from him without looking. She turned toward the woman who had just hit her.

     Penelope looked just as horrified as Scarlet felt shocked. If cameras had been here, there was a good chance that Penelope could be put to death or found guilty of treason for abusing a Victor. Only President Snow had the authority to hurt a Victor, or a peacekeeper if they were breaking the laws of Panem.

    "I'm sorry, Penelope, that you ended up with a Victor like me." She murmured to the woman who's staring at her with wide eyes. Penelope's face was still pinched and awful to look at, but it was a soft white now that most of the red had been washed away. Her face had wrinkles and lines, and she was much older than Scarlet had originally thought.

     Scarlet didn't regret anything that she did, but she suddenly thought of how it must feel to Penelope. To watch her two tributes, fight in such a gruesome manner, and for the tribute that she had gotten along with and liked, to be killed by the one that she hated. And Scarlet realized how hard it must be for her to do her job with a Victor like Scarlet, who broke the rules left and right and never listened. "If you want, just quit. I've lived without friends. Killed my twin brother. Won without a mentor. I will certainly be fine without an escort."

     Scarlet leaned forward and pressed her lips to the woman's weathered and now makeup free forehead. When she pulled back, she saw Penelope's eyes filled with fear and Scarlet was once more filled with a sense of heavy reminder.

     She was not to be liked. She was not to be loved or forgiven or understood. She was not to have allies or friends. She was to be the Wicked Wolfe. Every day, for the rest of her life. Her kiss carried a promise of death, even if she didn't mean for it to. Nothing would ever change that.

     Scarlet stood up and without waiting for a response or looking back, she stepped over Penelope's legs and with her back straight and her chin up.

     She had chosen to live. And live she would.

     Scarlet Wolfe had no regrets.

***

Finnick Odair

     As Finnick watched the girl walk away, he thought about the way they had ended their last interaction together before she came to District 4, just after she had woken up after leaving the Arena. She hadn't really been processing anything, or at least he hadn't felt like she had been. She had seemed shut down and closed off.

     She definitely hadn't remembered waking up the few times before that. The first time, he had been so shocked by the sight of her new golden wolf-like eyes that he'd been completely frozen in place, his throat had clogged up in horror. Luckily, she'd passed out again before she'd asked a single question and before he'd had to say anything. He didn't think he'd have been able to form a response.

     It wasn't that the eyes didn't fit her. They probably fit her more than the hazel eyes in which she was born with.

     It was the fact that he knew she hadn't wanted them. He knew she hadn't asked for them. They were her wolf's eyes. And just as 'gifting' her their pelts in her after Victory interview, they were meant as a punishment. A reminder of the power of the Capitol and the lack of power that she held.

     It was a reminder that she would carry with her for the rest of her life.

     He'd had several days to process the changes to her physical appearance, by the time she'd come around. He'd expected shock and anger. Scarlet was reactive and impulsive and out of all the emotions a human could feel, she seemed to tend toward anger. But she hadn't been angry.

     She hadn't been much of anything.

     He hadn't known if that was because of the drugs and the disorienting haze of just waking up, or if that was simply the result of her time in the games. But that lack of reaction was far scarier than the changes the Capitol made.

     Her first reaction to seeing her new face and her new eyes had been to ask him if he was scared of her. He hadn't ever felt afraid of her. Not before the games, or during, or after.

     Finnick had tried to draw her out of her shell. Imparting a few words of wisdom. He had tried to tell her that she wasn't alone. Before a tribute went into the arena, it was only themselves. Anyone who thought of anything else or anyone else, died. But after...

     After, when a tribute became a Victor, they didn't have to be alone. It was something that mentors, co-victors helped the new victors to understand. But Scarlet didn't have a mentor.

      As she had just pointed out. And from what he had seen and heard, she hadn't had much of an escort either. She hadn't had allies. She hadn't even been able to trust her own brother before or during the Arena. And she had to kill him to come out alive from the games.

     He had wanted her to understand that, while he understood why she had chosen to go it alone in the games, it didn't mean she had to be alone now. She wasn't alone. Each Victor that had come before her, knew. Understood. And felt what she felt.

     It seemed to him that Scarlet was trying really hard to prove him wrong, though. And maybe she would continue shutting him out, along with all the other Victors. She sure as Hell had done enough damage along the way so far on the Victory Tour that none of them would be offering friendship to her.

     But the more that she built those walls up, and the more she tried to shut him out, the more he kind of wanted to tear them down and see just what she was so damned afraid to show everyone.

     Was she really only the Wicked Wolfe? The vicious and cold-hearted betrayer that she portrayed during the games? The daring and wicked girl she showed the Capitol before the games? The alluring and tempting wolf she had been made into afterwards? Finnick was sure that it was a part of her. The best masks always were made from a piece of who the wearer was.

     The question always was how deep the mask went. There were moments when her cold words and actions didn't seem to be the result of the mask she was now forced to wear.

     There were also moments, few and far between, when he thought she wanted to be different. When she wanted to show empathy or compassion. When she wanted to be softer and kinder. The very few times when she had been, well...

    Those moments were always followed by an even harsher reminder of just how wicked she could be.

     Finnick wasn't sure if the reminder was for herself or for those around her.

     Either way, it seemed to do the trick. Scarlet became the Wicked Wolfe and the people around her were reminded of how much they feared her and disliked her. While the people watching from afar were drawn to her and wanted more. But only ever from afar.

     Halfway up the beach, her stylist and prep team gathered around her, pulling at her dress and motioning to her face and make up. Probably just about dying with the way her makeup had smudged and smeared. Finnick still had a stylist and a prep team, but he was well versed in how to maintain his body to appear the most pleasing to the naked eye.

     That was after all, his main job since becoming the Victor of his own Games.

     For him, they mainly showed up before the Annual Hunger Games, cleaned him up and scrubbed him down and prettied him up a bit for when there would be so many cameras on him. Wouldn't want Finnick to prove himself a mere human and have a flaw, now would they?

     By this time, there were more people gathering around the beaches and some were making their way down the dock. One carried a towel as they headed towards the district 14 escort.

      Finnick let the others help the woman still on the dock and headed towards the beach. He probably shouldn't have led Scarlet away from the Marketplace, but he didn't regret it.

     "Oh, we didn't bring any other clothes!"

     "Look at her makeup!"

     "Do we go back to the train?"

     "Is the dress salvageable?"

     Finnick had a feeling that if she got on the train, Scarlet wouldn't be coming off of it.

     Pausing next to her prep team, he quickly gave the suggestion that they take her first the Victor's Village. Mags would have some old clothes she could wear for the feast. They would be able to fix up her makeup, which had smudged across her face in what should have been a mess, but somehow just resulted in a sharpening of her wolf-like features. Her eyes seemed to glow brighter against the dark smudges, and her dark lips seemed darker.

     The stylist—who Finnick didn't know the name of—looked at him and he could see the dark circles under her eyes and the stress lines around her mouth. He was sure that this Victory Tour had not been easy on anyone, including the stylists and the prep team members.

     Though it hadn't been easy on Finnick, when he had made his Victory Tour after his Victory, he could imagine how much harder it was for everyone involved this year. Scarlet was a handful at the best of times and down right unmanageable at her worst.

     "That would be swell. If you could show us the way, we can get Scarlet fixed up in time for the Feast! Bex, go back to the train now, start finding all the fabrics we have, I know I can make something presentable for her before we get to District 3. Appia, go to the train and gather our makeup supplies. And Agnes, come with us to the Victory Village to see what we can do in the meantime."

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Let me know your thoughts and opinions! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope you enjoyed the view swaps between Scarlet and Finnick throughout this chapter. I hope to be able to give you another update soon. We are almost through Scarlet's Victory Tour! :) 

As always, please like and comment. I truly can't wait to hear your opinions. remember to vote if you enjoyed the chapter. 

Take care and stay safe!~ CANGEL