Fated (Bloodhound x Eve (OC))

Reward

"You like this, don't you? Mm. Of course you do - look how wet you are."

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Eve shifted her weight in the plush armchair and squinted under the bright lights that shone overhead. To her left one of the newest Legends, Gunner, sat stoic and still, his bulky muscular form dwarfing the chair. To her right, Pyro anxiously smoothed out his clothes and picked bits of lint and a loose strand of his bright orange hair off his shirt. It was her first interview since joining the games, and she was grateful that all the attention would not be on her alone.

Her first instinct was to fidget as Pyro did or to bite her nails. She looked down at the galaxy design still painted on, though slightly grown out, the nail bed below starting to show – she would have to get them redone soon. A woman with a clipboard and a headset approached, bringing Eve's braid from behind her back so it lay over the front of her. Eve stroked her braid once but stopped herself from fussing further. She reached into her pocket and felt for the little charm, a bit of metal from Bloodhound's helm that they had silently slipped into her palm before she left. A tiny piece of them to bring with her, for strength if she needed it. Coupled with the necklace she wore bearing the symbol of protection, she felt more ready to face the interview.

Bloodhound had given her advice, being a veteran to events such as these: do not offer more than is asked, redirect personal questions, but above all – be honest and true. Eve licked her chapped lips and wished she hadn't refused the bottle of water that the production team had offered her earlier. Her mouth was parched under the heat of the lamps above, but she had been worried that drinking anything would lead to a bathroom trip. She didn't want to risk squirming uncomfortably on camera, staying still was hard enough as it was.

A tall woman dressed in a bright magenta dress entered the staging area and sat in the empty armchair at the end of the row, the host's seat. Her light brown hair was curled to perfection, no ringlet out of place. She crossed one leg over the other, dark blue high heels on display. The woman's gaze moved slowly over the trio seated beside her, looking almost bored.

"On in 60 seconds," a man behind a teleprompter called out.

Eve felt a cold wave of fear wash over her and sweat threatened to break out under her arms, but with one more little touch of the charm, she steeled herself. She could do this.

The host plastered a pleasant expression on her face as the count ticked down - the smile was too perfect, teeth bleached white behind berry colored lips. Eve readjusted her position in her seat, hoping she was not expected to smile like that the whole time.

"Hello, Apex Fans!" the host called out, eyes staring ahead as the lines scrolled up on the prompter. "Today we have an exclusive interview with the three newest Legends." She turned to them. "Gunner, Eve, and Pyro!"

The trio waved to the camera. It was awkward, but better than doing this in front of a live audience. The conversation was simple, at first, discussing each of the Legends' stats, kill to death ratio, and featuring some clips of their recent matches. As the rankings went right now, her numbers put her above the two men beside her.

The discussion continued, sometimes requiring a comment from Eve, but mostly, she was just trying to keep a pleasant expression on her face. The strain of maintaining her poise, her posture, portraying confidence began to wear on her.

"Aaaannd break!" a male voice called out.

Eve immediately slumped in her seat, her muscles relaxing from the posture she had forced herself to hold. The other two Legends seemed similarly exhausted.