Sea Salt and Murder (Finnick Odair x OC)

Chapter 7 - The Demonstration

Training went smoothly forward from there. A couple teasing glances from the overconfident career group along with knife throwing improvement. I've got a handle on it now and I can hit the bullseyes on stagnant targets. I'm feeling pretty confident. Maddock requested to train alone on the third day of training, which I'm fine with. I don't know how I feel about him as an ally anyway. All I know is that I don't trust anyone. Finnick gave me good advice and I can't figure out how to stick to it. I'm terrified to go it alone but I don't have another option.

Today we go in for evaluation and then we have our interview. After what Brachia pulled out for the tribute parade, I'm confident I can get through an interview and charm a crowd. But the evaluations I'm nervous for. How much do they care about people being able to throw a spear? Is it that valuable or will they just brush it off? Same with knives. A good number of the career–and other–tributes have learned some knife throwing. It's not a unique skill. What if I can't grab their attention?

Finnick said I'll be fine if I show off both, but I'm not so sure. I hope he's right.

"Hey everyone! Are you all excited for the scores tonight? You'll do great darlings," Athyla gushes over the breakfast table, "especially if you put all the great skills I've been hearing about to good use."

"Excited isn't the word I'd use. Maybe anticipating?" I respond, bored. She knows we're not 'excited'. The only tributes that are excited are the ones that know what score they'll get already. I just want an eight. A safe but mildly intimidating eight.

Maddock will probably get a seven, honestly. He's not all that big and his knife throwing skills–the only I'm aware he knows how to fight proficiently with–still place him as a greenhorn. Maybe he picked something up in his private training, but I sincerely doubt it was anything overly impressive.

My plan for the evaluation is simple. Throw some knives, throw some spears, tie some knots. Easy peasy, if I don't run out of time.

The rest of breakfast is full of an over-energized Athyla, an entertained Finnick and Mags, and a fairly annoyed Maddock and me. As much as Athyla annoys me though, I can't say I didn't appreciate the distraction from the events to come.

When we get to the area waiting for assessment, I take deep breaths. Maddock sits beside me, as scared as he looked when I first shook his hand at the reaping. Everyone before me's name is called, including Maddock's.

"Good luck," I whisper when he leaves. I hear him mutter a thanks and exit through the hallway. I sit. Seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like hours.

"Jennifer Lamar, please report for individual assessment," the PA above the remaining tributes speaks. I stand up steadily and walk over to the room entrance. I am let in and see an array of stations for demonstration, along with a clear box full of the judges.

"Jennifer Lamar, here for individual assessment," I say, bowing lightly. Better to suck up now and get the high ground over the cocky bastards from one and two, right?

I look over to the knives. Picking one up and laying it in my hand to feel the weight, I prepare to throw them in quick succession. Gotta make it impressive.

One DONK. Two, three, DONK DONK. They all hit the red of the mid-distance target, one skewed a bit to the side. Not a bad start.

I turn my attention to the spears and pick up the one that looks most like mine from home. Thin and long but with a sturdy blade and metal reinforcements down the handle. Beautiful. I prepare, throw, and it hits the center of the far target with a fourth and final DONK. Perfect.

The knot tying is easy, I just weave a few that I'd use to tie boats to shore and then a few net loops to show them. My time is up by the time I get about halfway through the tenth knot of my net. But I'm happy. That went better than I thought, and they were paying attention. Looks like my parade dress did catch their eyes.

When we all sit down to watch the scores, I am anxious. What did I get? What did Maddock get? Did I tie a career? What did they get this year?

Caesar Flickerman speaks a bit before moving on. The career tributes' faces flash across the screen with numbers that were pretty expected. Both from one end up with a nine. The girl from two ends up with an eight–likely because she's so small–and the boy from two gets a ten. That's expected but still intimidating. I can't go up against that without allies, I mean come on.

The boy from three receives a seven and the girl a six, both fairly good scores for three's reputation. I wonder what they did to get those scores.

Maddock's face comes up, along with an eight. Not bad, better than I expected. He even tied that girl from two.

Then, my own face enters the screen. I inhale deeply and bite my lip. Please, please, please, please...

"Jennifer Lamar, with a score of..." the air seems to freeze and an anxious silence permeates the room, "...ten."

There is cheering from Athyla and she grasps me in a hug. Ouch, her nails are sharp.

"I haven't had two tributes with scores this successful...ever!" She exclaims, letting me go and moving onto the now startled and uncomfortable Maddock. She smells of over the top Capital perfume, as always. It burns my nose.

"These scores are great guys," Finnick says. Mags is nodding next to him, approving the comment from her as well. "Maddock I know you might have wanted higher but eight is a career score. Don't discourage yourself. You improved a lot from where you started and you're in a good spot. And Gem..." he pauses, "nice job."

The rest of the night is spent celebrating. It's interviews soon and I'm ready. Finnick said I should play the mysterious vixen-like angle. Try to sway the crowds to like me by showing them I've got something up my sleeve. I think it's a pretty good idea, something I can manage.

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