Shark Plushy (Enobaria X F.OC)

-69th-

Bera stood in the room alone.

One arm looked around her, the other lifted to bite her thumb's nail, just not biting through it.

Despite her arena having been a truly cruel one it was something she was familiar in surviving in.

Because of Valerius she knew how to survive in the streets of a town that wouldn't help her survive, she knew how to make a fire, how to hunt for food in a town.

Her tribute was entirely out of her element.

It looked like a pin forest with tall and dense trees, the starting area on a notable incline and her tribute was at the bottom of the slope so she'd need to run up it.

Yes, run up.

Bera had told her to go for the cornucopia.

As much of an danger as that was, it was her singular chance of survival, to grab that spear, grab a bag and book it. She needs to risk it, she needs to try.

She had actually came to see the girl off. Normally it was the stylists coming all the way here to fix their outfits one last time but she had basically taken over for district 8.

She bite more on her thumb, sinking her teeth in the pad of it, watching the count down on the screen next to the loading tubes.

She had trained her how she could, Valerius had trained her, she trained with the other tributes, she made alliances, Bera talked with mentors.

Bera did all there was to do for now, already thinking of who might have a lot of money in the Capitol and what outfit to wear to get that money.

"Come on James... Your sister must be just like you were, she must be." She muttered, gaze not wavering. "You were stronger then I ever thought, wherever you are, give her your strength."

Her fingers were pressing into her side and her jaws were trembling she was clenching so hard.

Her old head wound almost felt brand new, if she wasn't so concentrated on the screen she'd have reached out to check if she was bleeding or not.

She was the one to kill the first tribute and the last in the 66th, much blood covered her hand from those deaths and the others between. Despite sending Jessica to the middle of the bloodbath she had been clear, her goal is to survive, not fight.

She bite down so hard when the canon sounded off that there was a small click to her jaw.

She hadn't asked around that much, she didn't tell Cecelia or Woof about her alliances for the 66th so she never thought of asking Jessica so it was a bit of a bitter taste when the boy of 4 arrived to the cornucopia first and threw her a spear to catch before he grabbed a trident jabbed the prongs through the face of a boy, grabbed her wrist and sprinted away.

Bera tolerated Finnick since he was not her 4 but she had a distaste for everyone from that district, even the old victor Mags didn't escape her suspicions... So seeing another 4-8 duo was not that nice to her.

At least this boy was actually protecting her, she thought, being the first there and arming her before himself and making sure she could follow while he ran.

"Miss Helfir, time to leave the area."

She breathed out, turning away.

"Alright." She said, finally dropping her arms.

-----------------------------------------------

"I've never seen you so serious."

Bera was sitting in the mentors' lounge, it was nothing much, a room with several couches: normal and rounded ones, one huge TV screen hanging from the ceiling with literal shelves of alcohol just left there out in the open and an other wall of snack foods.

She was sitting with her elbows on her knees, fingers intertwined and her chin on her thumbs, staring up silently at the screen. Sitting motionlessly on the couch right in front of it.

"I am watching." Bera simply told Cashmere who carelessly let herself fall on the couch. She didn't have much to worry about, she has careers.

"I can see that, so stoic, that's so not you. You didn't care that much for the other tributes you had."

Sure, Bera did her job as a mentor. That's a given. But never had she went this overbearing and attentive.

"Jessica Lancer." She said.

"Oh." Came the muttered answer.

"Mhm." A small nod.

"Then it is not a surprise."

"Mhm."

"I hope her death will be quick."

Bera's fingers cracked under her own grip on them, not moving for a moment before swinging a punch that smacked loudly.

"WHAT THE FUCK BERA?!!" Cashmere held her face.

Bera was up on her feet, glaring, the room suddenly silent.

"If you--" She suddenly pointed at everyone, moving her hand left and right. "-or any of you once again brings up my tribute's death I'll make sure yours won't have a mentor to get them sponsors." She hissed, voice strained from holding back. "I am not bringing a second Lancer back home dead, even if it means bringing down such calamity that the Capitol itself will fear the number 8 enough to burn my district to the ground."

Her hand was trembling before she violently shook it out and sat back down in the same pose as before, flaming gaze on the screen.

"You have lost your mind." Cashmere said, anger mixing with annoyance as she stood back up and walked away.

Bera didn't care even if she might have destroyed her friendships.

They didn't matter.

They didn't matter over the deep seated guilt in the center of her being for having failed James, the boy she only got to know at max five facts about. A boy she only knew the name of, where he worked and maybe a few other facts... But also the boy that was the most important being in her life, to the point even she couldn't explain it.

She doesn't care for anything but bringing his sister home.