𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒.
chapter four; Initiates On The Loose 
" Why not? It's not against the rules— and even if it was, rules are made to be broken. "

  PERSEPHONE FINX WAS the only reason Marlowe Prior had made it to training that fair Tuesday morning. She'd somehow slept through the chaos, and miraculously, Persephone realized she hadn't seen her friend bustling about getting ready, and woke her up with just enough time to pull on appropriate clothing.

  Four said nothing about Marlowe's appearance, aside from quietly telling her to tie her shoe.

  He briefly explained they'd be learning to fight today, leading them to a room filled with fading punching bags and a large chalkboard with their names scrawled on in white chalk. 

  Marlowe's heart skipped a beat until realizing it was only alphabetical order.

  The morning was, shockingly, uneventful. Four was a bit harder on her than anyone else, but this was to be expected after her digging. 

  Marlowe wasn't the strongest physically, she was thin with little-to-no muscle after 16 years of being as selfless as humanely possible, but she had the determination of any other full-fledged Dauntless. 

  "How are you doing that?" Persephone mumbled breathlessly, sneaking a glance at Marlowe, whose punching bag had moved just slightly. "I'm—"

  "You're both small," Four interrupted abruptly, making the girls turn to him as he crossed his arms, "Try using your knees and elbows. It'll be easier for you to put power behind them."

  So, Persephone took the advice. She was, in all honesty, quite proud of herself. Marlowe took it, too, briefly, but she was more determined to build muscle then take the 'easy way out', so she quickly reverted to using her balled up fists.

  Until a new voice interrupted.

  "Four, are you even teaching them anything?"

  Marlowe paused, turning to see Eric smugly making his way to her, much to the annoyance of Four.

  "Yes."

  Eric pursed his lips, nodding at Four, before looking to Marlowe.

  "Hey, Lowe, do me a favor?"

  She nodded.

  "Throw a punch."

  "What?"

  He gestured to the punching bag before crossing his arms.

  So she followed instructions. Marlowe worried about her stance, getting into the exact one Four had demonstrated, before throwing a punch with every ounce of effort.

  Before she could turn back around, Eric arm was reaching around her figure, un-balling her fist.

  "Her thumb was tucked," Eric mumbled, readjusting Marlowe's hand, "You can break it like that."

  "Oh," She spoke, though it came out as a whisper, "I'm sorry—"

  "Don't apologize," Eric quickly brushed off, "After all, that's your instructor's fault."

↬

  "So, what do you want to do?"

  Persephone watched Marlowe patiently, as the girl carelessly changed into a somehow tighter outfit than that of the morning. Quite the opposite of Persephone, who was sporting a loose black skirt and a matching top that's sleeves slipped off her shoulders, Marlowe was now tugging large boots over her feet and black jeans that hugged her figure into them, adjusting the just as tight black top as she did.

  "Perse?" Marlowe laughed, waving a hand, "Hello?"

  "It was kind of weird what Eric did, don't you think?" Persephone poised, sitting beside Marlowe as the girl tied the boots, "Showing up for our training. . . and the whole thing, I know he's supposed to supervise training, but it felt like he was trying to embarrass Four."

  Marlowe rolled her eyes, standing and pushing her hair up to give it the appearance of volume.

  "Or, he didn't want me to break my thumbs."

  Persephone furrowed her brows as Marlowe walked to a mirror.

  "Are you. . . You're not involved with him, right?"

  "No," Marlowe sighed, "I mean we just got here. But he's definitely interested in me."

  Persephone shifted in discomfort as Marlowe smudged black eyeliner over her lids. She'd barely known the girl for a few days, yet still, she could tell something had changed. Like a switched had been flipped and Marlowe was now an entirely different person.

  "What about tattoos? Piercings? We can get our hair dyed—"

  "Tattoos and piercings probably aren't smart yet," Persephone interjected quietly, "If we have to fight each other, it's an automatic target, y' know?"

  Marlowe nodded, sighing as she reclaimed her seat beside Persephone. They remained silent for a few moments until a lightbulb went off above Marlowe's head.

  "I know what we should do."

  "Why am I already scared?"

  Marlowe didn't seem deterred by Persephone's expression of fear, as she jumped up and grabbed the girls hand, tugging her along.

  "Remember that guy from the train?" Marlowe grinned, her steps quickening as they made their way through twisting hallways, "East?"

  "We can't just go find a Dauntless-Born—!"

  "Why not? It's not against the rules— and even if it was, rules are made to be broken."

  Persephone followed Marlowe as the latter forged her way through The Pit. She may have only known Marlowe for a drop in the oceans of her life, but there was this. . . fire. This fire Persephone had never felt the warmth of before, the inviting dance of flames and the danger of coming too close.

  But as Marlowe grabbed Persephone's hand to urge her feet to move faster, Persephone couldn't help but ignore that warning; she was blinded by the warmth.

  "Hey," Marlowe greeted a group of teens, clad in black clothing, with a bright smile, "Have any of you guys seen East?"

  "Why?"

  "It's a yes or no question," The brunette laughed, "And the answer is clearly yes, so. . ?"

  A girl with smudged eyeliner sighed, but gestured a lazy finger to a crowded store across The Pit.

  "I thought we said no tattoos—"

  "No tattoos," Marlowe grinned at Persephone, "Just grabbing East."

  And that was exactly what they did. East was easy enough to spot, his head bobbing over most of the patrons in the tattoo parlor, and Persephone was abhorrent to simply going up to East, but it seemed she wouldn't have to do that.

  "Lowe!"

  East shoved his way through the bustling shop, nodding his head and bouncing on the balls of his feet as the girls followed him into the bliss of serentiy beyond initates drilling ink into their skin.

  "You have been a very popular subject amongst initiates, young lady," East informed, wagging a finger in Marlowe's face before shoving his hands into his pockets, "Apparently. . . Trinity saw you go into Eric's room a few nights ago."

  Marlowe smiled coyly, shrugging.

  "Well, congrats on that—"

  "Oh, nothing happened," Marlowe couldn't help the laugh that forced it's way through her vocal cords, "No— Not at all."

  "Really?"

  "Why are you surprised?"

  "Well, Eric kind of seems like. . . a dick," East answered honestly, "We all met him last year— total prick. Wouldn't be surprised if he slept with one of twenty fresh faces in this place."

  "Oh, my God," Marlowe gasped, her hands raising one epiphany, "East, you are exactly what I need!"

  He smirked, tilting his head shamelessly.

  "I'm sure she doesn't mean it like that," Persephone mumbled, crossing her arms.

  "I don't!" Marlowe grinned, "You can tell me who Four is."

  East's excitement quickly flattened, his body language turning shy— and even after only two interactions, Marlowe determined this was not normal behavior for him.

  "Eh, I dunno, Lowe," He spoke, scratching the back of his neck, "It's kinda frowned upon to talk about anything before your faction—"

  "Yeah, yeah, faction before blood and all that," She waved, "But, come on. We had lives up until we turned 16, too."

  East pursed his lips, looking between Persephone and Lowe. He pondered, went back and forth, drew a pro and con list in his head, before finally coming to his conclusion.

  "I'll tell you whatever you want to know about Four— that's within my realm of knowledge," He said, holding up a finger when Marlowe's mouth opened in a gleeful smile, "In exchange. . . for you two telling me about who you were before the sorting ceremony."

  "Deal."

  "W— wait a second," Persephone interrupted, "I don't care about Four, why am I involved?"

  "C'mon," East whined, dipping his head, "A guy gets curious about other factions— and I can't exactly go around asking anyone who walks in here."

  "Fine."

  "Yes!"

  "You owe me."

  "Oh, I owe East, now I owe you?"

  "That's right."

  "Alright, what do I owe ya, Perse?"

  "Chocolate cake."

  "How am I supposed to get that?!"

  "That's for you to figure out."

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
It's been a while since I updated this
But I really really missed writing
Marlowe, so, we're back!