A Game Of False Fates ✭ Cato Hadley

Nine - What You Waiting For?

7th July 74PD

The next morning, another full day of training begins. The volunteers meet on the basement level of the training centre at nine-thirty, leaving the mentors to congregate in the viewing room as they wait for the doors to open to the sponsors at ten o'clock. Cashmere and Gloss join the four District Two mentors on the faux leather, white and gold careers couch at just before ten o'clock and the other mentors file in shortly after.

"Good morning!" Cashmere chirps as she sits beside Clio, already in a good mood.

"We have an important meeting with a few of our most lucrative sponsors at exactly eleven." Brutus informs them. Clio can tell that he's the one who has set up this sponsor, something which he confirms once he continues speaking. "This group has proved particularly useful in the past few years, they have supplied us with great amounts of funds but once again they have several conditions they want the volunteers to meet. It's our job to reassure them once again."

"How important are they?" Clio asks, wondering about the depths of these sponsors' pockets.

"Incredibly." Gloss says curtly. "They're the ones who allow us to send in the larger gifts, including the fancy weapons and necessary equipment. Think Cato's long-life hand warmers and extra blankets in the snow and the whetstone for your makeshift knives."

"A warning Clio," Cashmere grabs her attention. "They're creepy. Even the women will want to touch you and treat you like their newest commodity but just let them do it for the tributes' sake."

Ew, Clio thinks. What the fuck.

Before the group of mentors walk over to the lavish round of seating, Clio notices Brutus whisper something to Cato in a low hum and within a few seconds her boyfriend is directly beside her and looping his hand around her waist to pull her closer into him as they approach the sponsors. The man sitting in the middle of the couch looks her up and down, his greasy black hair falling into his eyes, wiping the corner of his mouth as he leans onto his elbows to get another look at her whilst the other five stand around him and begin to speak to their mentors. "Surely a beautiful young thing like yourself has better things to be doing than discussing sponsors? Like me perhaps."

The man lowers his pitch, trying to make his naturally high-pitched voice sound deeper in a strange combination that Clio wasn't expecting. "Uh, hi? Can I help you?" Clio cocks an eyebrow, unsure of how to react to this.

"I think you can, gorgeous." The man takes a step closer to Clio, twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers as his gaze bores into her eyes. She fakes a smile and gently pulls her hair from his hand, cringing internally when the man glances quickly down to where her hair ends and bites his lip before bringing his eyes back up and studying her face. Suddenly, he calls over an Avox with a motion of his hand.

"Get this pretty little thing a strong drink, we have some sponsorships to organise." The man says, his hand creeping down her back.

"Please don't touch me." She says calmly, trying to sit down a few inches away from the man so that she can steer the conversation towards this year's tributes and away from her own discomfort - what she can tell is also mirrored on both Cashmere's and Enobaria's faces as they push away their own admirers.

"Hey, don't be like that. Lighten up a little." He chuckles, but there's a hint of warning in his tone as he rests his elbow on his leg again, passing the glass in his other hand over to her before tapping his thigh with the other hand. "Come on, sit down and have your drink. We can talk things over and see where it goes."

"No, I-"

"I wasn't asking." His hand tugs her arm down so that she is sat beside him and a woman comes to sit on the other side of her. His hand claws at her waist, readjusting his grip with such aggression that she's sure it will leave a bruise. A fake smile is still plastered on her face as she thinks of the money she can drain from the bank accounts of these men to help her sister, but her throat tightens slightly at the realisation that the man won't take no for an answer and it causes her to think about to a few of the tributes from her own games. She glances towards Cato, hoping that he would be able to recognise her discomfort and be able to intervene, but he is looking straight ahead at Brutus whilst trying to swat away the hands of the blue haired woman between them as she runs her long black fingernails up and down Cato's arm.