How odd this girl is.
Isn't she from 8?
She is? Then why is she like this?
Like how? Don't you see it? The monster hidden in the deep?
Well this might be fun.
(I know, not the type of title you expect for a Hunger Games fic, but I couldn't hold myse...
(So yes, I am skipping forward a few years unlike the other victors of mine that got chapters for 67th and 68th too, because, honestly, I don't think it would be fun reading Bera always acting the same for a lot of chapters.)
(Oh and this is the adult Bera, face claim is Cindy Bishop, a model and a woman that fits how the randomly AI generated young Bera...
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Would look like when she got older. I warned you, it is a pretty woman but she doesn't look like the young adult Bera should look like but imagine her a bit between the young her and this new her.
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You're welcome.)
She sigh, it came out more like a groan but then again, she couldn't be assed to seem normal, being almost 19 and already feeling 91 was a hassle, this all was in the end.
Bera yawned, covering her mouth and just shooting Woof a glare when he nudged her in her ribs, she has the right to be bored, it is the same each year, just get used to having a chance in being reaped to die, she had too.
And she didn't care for the cameras, they'd cut out anything improper she did because she was doing as Snow asked and he'd want her image to stay true so he'd work himself in censoring her fuckups... She can believe it annoys him to no end, she loves it.
And sure, he had tried to get people to buy her, people she didn't approve off but regretted it quickly when she made a sobbing scandal of the man drugging her up and taking advantage of her and honestly, what did he expect? A lowly man from the lowest ranks of the Capitol or the most bellowed victor, the fashion model, the ever loving even through her injury, victor from 8, who would people believe? Let's just say that that man was lynched by his own people by the end of the night, Bera smiling behind the fake tears and Snow knew.
Bera was slowly becoming a dangerous woman in his plans while doing exactly as he demanded of her, having supporters in Capitol and the districts because of just who she was, playing the game fullheartedly and loving it.
And of course, the Capitol kept a close eye on the 'rivalry' between 2 and 8. Bera, bless her soul, learnt how to somewhat flirt with all the experience she had, people literally asking her if she was secretly dating the victor of 2 and she'd never give a straight answer, again, just how she promised Snow.
The Capitol ignored all that happened, all the faux pas when Bera was in the scene, with a new custom made outfit of hers, something she did or didn't do, she was diva, a dangerous diva.
And she knew it, she always knew it, playing the games and being a pawn to herself first and foremost to get what she wanted, she'd always get what she wants... Which was part of the reason she put herself out so much, to be sure they always requested her to mentor 8 because honestly, this first proposed fake dating idea was slowly becoming a 'why won't you date me?!' that was truly meant... Not that she'd say it out loud, that's too much, the Capitol would have a heart attack after Bera had one herself.
There was an other reason for this too, and it became apparent this year.
"Welcome our first tribute of the 69th! Jessica Lancer!"
If people think about it, they would realize the pulls are somewhat rigged, there is a way higher chance for someone that was related to the previous tribute or victor to be chosen, like Gloss and Cashmere, just like how Cecelia's children are more in danger or how Finnick's new girlfriend just got a target stamped on her back because he is a sweetheart too, just how if Bera had kids or a sibling they might be chosen... Same with the dead tributes' families if that tribute was memorable in some way... And James was.
Bera put her hands in her pockets, wearing something simple, a long sleeved black turtle neck and dark green pants, thick worker boots, nothing really extravagant but she was sure the Capitol would make another trend of this simple outfit since they always did.
She didn't care much for the male tribute, some Tristan or whatever.
She never truly believe she knew why she lived, outside of mocking the Capitol by it being to her whims and changing colors to the choice of her outfits. She was still the same old half eyed loner with anger issues back in 8. She still believe James would have known how to live truly.
She expected this reaping for a while... And she'll make the best of it.
She hadn't seen his parents since that fateful night where she left them crying.
She had no idea if they cried, screamed or just remained silent the day he was taken to that train but for his sister cries of anguish were heard through the thin walls.
This time the father held himself together outside of tears staining his face as his wife was inconsolable to such a level that he was carrying her in his arms.
When he came out of the room, he stared at her, Bera had been waiting outside of it.
For the first time, they might have exchanged words if it was another world but the silence remained. A simple look, a silent promise, 'I'll bring her back'.
"Your training starts today." She said, even if she knew they wouldn't reach the Capitol before next sunrise.
"What?" The distraught girl said, looking at her mentor, she's serious?
"I might have failed your brother." Bera crossed the wagon, grabbing the wooden coat hanger in the corner of it. "But I am a mentor, I'll make you live."
"There is no chance I'll survive!" The girl yelled in agony.
"Not with this attitude no." The tribute flinched in fear when Bera swung the coat hanger into the wall with all her strength, breaking off the metal bottom of it.
Bera turned it upside down and slammed her heel down in the hanger parts, breaking one off after a few kicks.
"You need to believe you'll come back." Another. "You need to be selfish and cruel." And the last. "You need to fight only for yourself." She held the splintered remains of the coat hanger, being a rough staff now.
Bera walked back to the child that was still sitting in front of the empty dinning table, it was still not time for food it seemed.
"I'll show you what I know." She put a knee on the ground to look up at the child with her dropped head. "You might not have as much time as I had but I'll show you." She held the staff up in her two hands, offering it to the child that was the age her brother was when he went into the arena. "I need you to trust me Lancer. I wanted to bring your brother home, he had a reason to live. I failed, I won't fail again."
The child stared into her eye. One of them was scared, terrorized about how she would would die the moment the games begin and the other was confident she could win her the victory if she just trusted her.
