❛of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.❜
finnick odair / fem!oc
pre-thg - mockingjay
based off book / movie
...
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The applause from the audience welcomes Cashmere and Gloss onto Caesar's stage. Paris and Wilma from her prep team gaze up at the TV while they tie the back of her dress to fit. A silver and black dress weighs down from her shoulders. Reflective metal pieces are fastened from the straps, molded into an intricate pattern of curls and loops. Her hair is styled into voluminous waves and shines fluidly under the light.
Hands clutch both her shoulders. "The Victors Parade dress was about District 4. Tonight is all about you, Widow." Neptune rubs her arms with affection before brushing the dark shadow above her lash-line. "They already love you and so does Caesar. This will be a walk in the park."
Fallon's breath hitches in her throat. Not because she worries about the audience or the cameras on her — she was well beyond desensitized to this business. Lingering in her stomach is the weight of knowing that it's the last time Aris will see her before she was in the Quell.
Neptune pouts and combs a stray hair behind her ear. "Darling, you look beautiful. Don't be upset, everything will work out."
She nods and balls her fist up, digging her nails into her palm. It was a nervous tick she had picked up ever since the Games and it stuck since. Squeezing until it dulls the skin, she takes a few deep breaths and opens her eyes. Her stylist secures a silver clasp around her neck.
"You two made the Games a family affair, you became everyone's brother and sister. I don't know how we're going to let you go." Caesar's voice echoes into the fitting room.
The masculine voice of Gloss responds. "We're not going by choice. You are our family, and I don't see how anyone can love us better."
She tries her best to block out their chatter and focus on her own talking points.
"So sweet. So sweet... Are you alright, dear?"
"I'm sorry. I just can't stop crying." Cashmere sniffles into the microphone.
"Fallon, we need to prepare you quickly. Those District 1 tributes have their strategy planned out. The audience is eating it up, whereas we-"
She turns to face the woman shuffling into the room. Zelda halts and brings her gloved hand to her heart. "Oh, Fallon. You look more beautiful than I could have ever imagined." The escort hurries over, with tears that make her eyes glint white.
"Thank you." Fallon holds her swaying hands.
"Now, we don't have much time." Neptune combs up her brows. "Zelda, brief her."
