BliTZ|Charmeleon&Raveoli; look b a c k

charlotte {♔} brownings

The only thing packed after lunch was her left pocket, jammed softly with a small variety of even smaller candies and a sandwich clogging the bulk of space, a rip in the fruity sugar bag spreading its contents about and ultimately getting her hand nothing but sticky. Ever since that bitch of a mentor took the snack trolley from their room per request of Charlotte stealing everything in site, frequently stealing her food from the lunch to eat later in her room became routine past the first few days. Picking food off other tribute's plates followed suit as well, but in reality she was granting them a favor, better get used to starving soon, right; they rarely noticed, however, besides one asshole who stabbed her hand with a damn fork.

Aimlessly wandering the training room, her fingers fondled with the green and orange circles to get them back into their bag in some form of salvaging the mess, in turn mostly own painting the tips of her hand into blurred, corresponding hues. Only looking up from the pockets after kicking a platform and snapping her head back to attention at the stealth station, a handful of others lingering around like the candy sitting in her hand, melting against the sweat. About half of them were blonds, but so were half the total tributes so the possibility of any of them actually sticking out was slim to fucking none- just staring at the group felt like watching puppies bicker. The backs of their heads all looked the same, light tips stretching towards the bottom of their necks, meaning they could be anybody that victor's brother to the boy equipped with a tiara, but deductive reasoning was literally not happening right now.

One of them fucked up on something and the director shook his head into a frown matching the one on his forehead, the blond's expression shifting into corresponding agreement. Charlotte's own fingers coiled around one of the green beads resting in her, softly kissing the coating of pure sugar and salty sweat before flicking it at him, the corners of her lips curling as the candy bounced off his head (out of both from enjoyment of the temptation to try to majorly piss somebody off or out of actually hitting a target for once). Mouthing the word loser between the etching grin, more to herself than attempting to read it to the boy.