The Rebel Victor | I [THG]

Chapter Fourteen | They'll Find Them

That night Quinn was haunted with nightmares about the games. She hadn't put much thought into the actual arena, the actual blood and gore that she would be facing as a member of the career pack. Now, she had a weak score, a score of five while her allies had nines and tens-- she knew she deserved at least an eight. Her aim had been good-- it was the message she sent with it. The gamemakers were going to be after her, Seneca Crane may have even changed a whole arena last minute because he assumed she would be killed in water-- maybe now the arena was a bone dry waste land.

Her death wasn't something that could be avoided. But now there was something about the hatred that Snow and the gamemakers had for her that made her want to do more-- she wanted to do the mockingjay pin justice. It stood for something so much more than Damien had explained. It stood for something that Quinn couldn't really explain-- but she knew it was something Snow didn't want. Of course she didn't want to stand for that same thing, whatever it was. But she wanted to make a statement, if she was going to die, she wanted to make a statement and if that was pointing out the cruelty of President Snow and the gamemakers and even the Capitol people for enjoying the games-- then so be it. She knew what it was like to just be there, to not matter-- every orphan knew what that was like. And everyone one outside of the Capitol was just the same, they were just there with no importance.

"Oh my god, Quinn-- you look awful!"

Breea's voice was practically a shriek that pulled Quinn out of her own thoughts. "Gee, thanks." she sighed heavily.

"You look like you haven't slept for days." she said, looking at Quinn who sat in a hospital gown on the metal bed. "We worked hard to get rid of those dark circles when you first came."

Quinn sighed, she had her hands folded in her lap. Then in her hand she had her pin. She hadn't gone anywhere with out it, it was her token now.

"I didn't get much sleep last night..." Quinn replied honestly as Yizel and Kellun walked into the room.

Breea frowned and gently put her hands on Quinn's shoulders. "Well, don't you worry. We'll get rid of them again."

They went through the same process of prepping as they did before. But then Ciruss requested to do the rest of himself. Kellun said Ciruss had a tradition to do mostly everything for his tribute to get them ready for their interviews. And Quinn was relieved to get away from Breea's babbling.

Breea meant well, she did...she sort of reminded Quinn of Remilda. Naive to what the games meant to the tributes-- they thought of the games as entertainment. But there was a spark of actual sympathy in Breea's eyes that wasn't in Remildas. A certain look that made Quinn think she did feel bad about what Quinn was being sent into.

Kellun was nice, he was like an older brother. He understood what the games meant to the Districts-- what they meant to Quinn. Yizel was shy, but she was careful and had a similar look of sympathy in her eyes.

But Ciruss was still the one that Quinn liked the most. Thinking that he had once been in the arena too, there was something comforting about the idea that there was still hope-- that if she got out of there, she could have some sort of life.

Quinn ran her fingers on the pin in her palms that were beginning to sweat. She sat in a more comfortable chair as Ciruss began to reveal the black pearl dress that was similar to the one from her parade outfit.

"Ciruss," Quinn started, "What happened to Yizel?"

Ciruss glanced at her, "I'm not quite sure." he sighed, "Her father was lead gamemaker five years ago. Nobody is really all that sure what happened to him, it probably has something to do with that." Ciruss stated honestly.

Quinn sighed and nodded. The answer was enough for her. It wouldn't surprise her that Snow would punish a child for something their father or mother did-- that's what happened to Damien after all. But her exhaustion and thoughts about the arena and the interviews took over her mind again after a sad attempt to distract herself.

Ciruss remained quiet, occasionally saying something simple to Quinn about the outfit she was getting put in. It wasn't until Quinn had to release her hands from one another that the conversation began again.

"That's a interesting pin," Ciruss stated, "Is it from District Four?"

"No," she replied quickly, "I found it on the roof, I figured I could bring my own token."

Ciruss held out his hand for the pin. Quinn sighed but handed it over to him. He turned it over in his palm for a moment, examining its shape like Quinn had when Damien first gave it to her.

"What was your token, Ciruss?" Quinn asked as she turned and looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was long, and the upper half was embedded with pearls. Her hair was down, and curled while there was a pearl head piece that held her bangs out of her face. Her makeup was simple, black eyeliner surrounded her eyes while neutral brown eyeshadow was on her eyelids.

"My fathers old bracelet." he sighed as he held out his wrist to show her a silver that had an engraving on it, "My brother gave it to me before I left-- told me to bring it back to him after I won."

"Why do you still have it then?" Quinn asked, Ciruss's eyes fell to the table where her nonchalantly moved stuff around as if he was looking for something. His other hand tightened around the pin that he had been looking at.

"They killed my family while I was still in the arena." he finally said, his voice was quiet-- practically a whisper. "I wasn't exactly..." he paused, "I made it clear I hated the Capitol when I was in the arena."

Quinn looked at him for a long moment, he still didn't look at her. "So they killed your family?"

He nodded, "I got home, my family was nowhere to be seen. Found my new house-- hadn't even been touched yet. President Snow came to visit me. Told me about my family, and that was that." he explained, and then finally let out a long sigh as he glanced up at her before finding a spot amoung the pearls for her pin.

That was just another reason Quinn had to add to her list of cruel things the Capitol did. Ciruss had been probably the first Career to speak out against the Capitol ever-- and he had been punished for it. She hated the thought of Ciruss being in the arena-- thinking about the family he had to go home to only to find out they were dead. Had they been tortured? Had it been quick?

"I'm glad I don't have a family then..." Quinn said quietly. "After what happened in my private session...they'd already be dead."

Ciruss looked at her, his eyes were solemn. "Quinn, if there is even just one person you care about...they'll find them."