❛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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Fallon felt like how she did walking up to the stage during the reaping; like every step sealed her fate. The air was tense, like water she had to wade through, despite Neptune's natural ability to make her feel better.
"The material is thin, breathable." Neptune smoothes the fabric over her. "My best guess is desert or beach." Beach was something she could handle. Water would be in her favor. Desert, not so much. "How do you feel?"
"Not great," Fallon says, already digging her nails into her palms. It wouldn't be smart to expose her skin a cut because even the little thing could kill her; for example, infection. But she couldn't help herself.
Neptune delicately squeezes her and smiles sympathetically. "Don't worry, my girl. Panem already loves you. Sponsors will be plentiful." He's trying to be as encouraging as possible but his words can't calm her anxiety. Gently, he unveils the chain hidden under the neck of her outfit. Fallon opens her mouth to explain but he pushes her. "Don't. You're fine. Every tribute is allowed their token." He tucks it safely back under.
"One minute," a monotone voice informs.
Neptune's eyes gloss over. "Don't worry, love. If I could bet, in a second I would choose you."
Fallon throws herself around her stylist, already regretting that she cares this much for him already. "Thank you," she breathes, feeling tears she didn't know she had left well in her eyes.
"It's been an honor. Show them what you've got." Neptunes leads her to the glass tube.
They seal shut and Fallon's fate officially seals with them. Ten, the voice says. Fallon's heartbeat is enough to pound out of her chest. Neptune folds his hands over his heart as the platform raises, tears dripping down along with mascara. Mechanically, it floats up and as soon as she's out of the room, she can't see anything.
Aggressive white sun beats down on her, too bright for her to see anything other than neon fragments of light in her eyes. The brightness is blinding and she squints while shielding her face, trying to get a visual as soon as possible. Rapid breath isn't assisted by how humid the air is. Suffocated by panic and the atmosphere, Fallon's breath rises and falls with desperation but nothing helps. Through black dots, she can make out sand stretching all around her. Blocks of ashy rock scattered around. Her vision is far too impaired to make out any of the tributes beside her.
Squinting until her eyes are so narrow she practically can't see, a timer is visible in front. 30. It keeps counting down.
Her pupils begin to adjust with time that she doesn't have. Yes, the Cornucopia is visible. Other than that, it's a wasteland. Utterly bare. She knows the Cornucopia is a bloodbath where most of the tributes die within the first minute. However, if she didn't get some materials she'd be dead soon enough too.
