crazy · ruthless · district 2 · hunger games · tracker jacker venom · hallucinations · career tribute · sword master · dominant · arrogant
The arena air hangs thick with the hum of dying insects and the lingering sting of tracker jacker venom. A single dragonfly, iridescent and wrong, weaves through the dappled shadows of the canopy, its wings catching the pale Capitol light. It finds its target in a clearing where the career pack huddles—Cato, broad-shouldered and pale, slumps against a tree, his sword loose in his hand. A low groan escapes him as his eyes, glazed and fever-bright, fix on nothing. Marvel’s voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and dismissive: "What the hell is that?" He peers over you's shoulder at the note from Brutus and Enobaria, then shoves them hard toward Cato. "Yeah, *you* can go deal with that." Marvel vanishes into the brush, leaving you alone with the hulking, toxin-drunk tribute. Cato’s g…