soul marks.

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coral machen, the brave







╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

soul marks

volume one; before

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝





The bombarding cameras leering over them and cheers of adoring fans as they pulled into the capitol station never ceased to bother her. Both tributes had been warned of the crowd before hand yet they both seemed startled. Coral looked over at Elora, gazing at the blank canvas that became her face the moment they entered the capitol. She looked at Finnick, who plastered his signature smirk on his face even though she noticed he was lacking the sparkle in his eyes. She attempted to follow suit, having practiced her cold hearted killer face in the mirror for most of the night before. When she saw Elora give her an appreciative nod, she knew she had done something right.

"You don't stop for anyone, don't talk to the crowd, don't answer any questions. Keep walking and keep your mouth shut".

Finnick drawled in an almost sultry manner. Coral figured he was getting ready for the cameras. Beckett was not so calm and collected, and it was clear to everyone on the train that he had not prepared for this moment in the way that Coral had. His bright blue eyes were wide with terror and he shook with an unmistakable tremor. Elora looked away, as she had for the entire train ride. Beckett was Finnicks tribute and while they usually shared the tributes to a certain degree, Elora could not handle sending a twelve year old to his death the way that Finnick could. Once they reached the capitol, tributes were the least of his worries.

Exiting the relative safety of the train and setting foot on Capitol ground was always uncomfortable. No longer were they simple citizens of district four. The roars of the crowd were deafening, cheering for the tributes as they entered the lions den for the the first time. Screams of the victors names were thrown around and Elora swore she saw a woman faint in the crowd. It was the screams of her name bellowed from the ever increasing crowd that sent her back in time two years. She forced herself to keep walking.

A hand found her own but it wasn't the large calloused hand she was used to. This hand was slender, with long thin fingers that slid between her own with ease. Coral did not look at Elora as they entered the tribute centre hand in hand.


✯¸.•'*¨'*•✿ ✿•*'¨*'•.¸✯



Cato Hadley was not lacking in confidence by any means. He was confident in his skills and he was confident in his ability to gain sponsors. He was even confident in the abilities of his district partner. Clove may be small, but she was agile and skilled with a knife. One thing he did not know about was her immense idolisation of the district four victor Elora Clarke. He glared down at her small figure as she practically shook with excitement. That's the thing about Clove, when there were cameras and people around she wore the perfect mask of a killer, but when they were alone she could let her guard down and simply be a teenage girl. A teenage girl who was about to meet her idol.

"Cool it Clove, she's not going to want to talk to you if you look like you're about to explode".

She whipped around to glare at him, but Cato paid her no mind. It was the truth. Even if Clove didn't look like a child who had been given one too many pieces of chocolate, Elora Clarke was not going to stop and talk to her. They were careers and district four wasn't always a part of their alliance. If she had taken the young boy to mentor, as Bruce suspected she would, there would be no need for the victor to speak with the tributes most likely to kill him.

Cato didn't know why Clove looked up to the district four woman so much. Sure, she was talented with a trident and she could hold her own but that was the only exciting thing about her. She wasn't the most amazing tribute they had ever seen.

The moment the cheers started up, the two district partners made their way to the entry of the tribute centre. They had been hanging around, watching as the tributes made their way into the centre. Observing their physiques and attitudes to determine if any would make good allies. They could hear the crowds outside pushing in, chanting the district four victors names. District four may not be the strongest district, but they often produced the most liked victors. District one and two hated them for it but even they couldn't deny the attraction of the sunkissed mentors.

The district four gang entered the tribute building just as Clove wiped her slate clean of emotions. Determination covered her features and with a glint in her eye she strode towards the group. Cato observed as Finnick rolled his eyes upon the duo's arrival. His eyes turned to slits in the presence of the capitol darling. He scoffed internally, making himself a promise that when he won the games he would be more loved than Finnick Odair. What was so special about the guy anyway?

"District two"

Finnick drawled in that seductive voice that made women swoon, and Cato could have sworn he saw Clove sway slightly next to him. Cato grit his teeth together a little.

"I'm Clove Kentwell"

Clove smiles, and though she knows it should be more of a smirk, she can't help but make it genuine in the presence of Elora. Cato watches as Elora arches a singular brow in what he assumes is curiosity, yet she shows no emotion on her face. It happens as her eyes move to meet his, her hand reaching out to shake his. At the first brush of her skin against his he feels it almost immediately. The mark engraving itself into his left wrist, occupying the once empty space. His stomach drops to his stomach as she yanks her hand from his and hurries down the hall, seemingly knowing her way around the tribute centre perfectly. A tremor shakes his body with each step she takes. He takes in the new ink that would mark him forever with disbelief.

Elora Clark.

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