the unexpected and momentous founding of {the boys} | day 1

Delroy Wickersham is a stupid boy.

For a self proclaimed genius, his words could be anywhere far from it. Jacynth Voclain had studied what happened to boys like him in the games. Spent years wasting her life with games lore and games knowledge and all sorts of ways to use weapons efficiently. Delroy Wickersham would end up dead in the snow by the end of this, there was no way the Capitol would let a loose cannon like him live. Eleven holding rebel mindsets still in the 86th games, Jacynth Voclain knew there wasn't any way for them both to survive. Rebels don't live to spread their word, they die a cold and bitter death like the rest of them.

A cold chill running up her spine as the sound of her footsteps crunch into the ground. Rene was behind her, following with a strangeness to him, a strangeness that had caused her to be interested in what a useless boy had to offer her. Both of them had been fearless in bloodbath, uncaring of the cold, but still striking to get the items needed for their survival. Wealth would have been nicer, but Jacynth didn't need any hand outs. She's gone through hell and back before and she would do it again if she had to. The silent crunch of snow beneath her feet reminds her of the sand in Four, gentle and cold in the early mornings where she'd escape from home.

The chill of the wind in this snow covered plain gives a nice feeling to the purpling colored mark that resides on her face. A gentle calmness to the pain she's felt time and time before. Escaping to a beach early in the morning where the waves would crash against rocky cliff sides and sand bars leaving her to forget about the bruises her father would leave on her when she didn't produce enough poison for the family. The crunching of snow is relaxing, despite the chill that goes through her body. A fading memory of the past that bleeds into the present. Alex would be watching her in this snowscaped land; she knew he wouldn't be able to survive the snow if their positions had been switched.

Alex would have taken wealth from Iris O'Nyle and her posse of girls or died fighting. Jacynth was better in that sense, she had known when they needed to leave. Acquiring some weapons and items needed in order to survive the cold of the arena, Jacynth Voclain knew many of them wouldn't. The cold wasn't her specialty either. Being from four had its own downfalls, Jacynth wasn't used to freezing weathers unlike some of the districts in Panem. She had spent some time learning about how to survive in the freezing weather from training, but her mind was going blank on any of it. Almost as if the chill was freezing her brain's function to think and remember back to training days.

Jacynth should have paid more attention.

Rene mumbles something to himself, words that clearly weren't meant for her. She doesn't pay him any attention as she stares into the expanse of snow, looking for any sort of direction they're going besides away from the cornucopia. Staring up into the darkening sky, she wonders if the stars will be out. In Four, the stars were the only time she didn't feel as if she were drowning under a sea of expectations from her father. She wanted to dance under them when she was younger, pretend she was like the earth moving among the stars above, dancing to a tune of her own making, but life wasn't a dance.

"I need a knife." His words weakly reach the air. Another reminder of how pathetic he sounds, but she doesn't comment on that particular thought.

"Are you good with a knife?" Amusement bleeding onto her lips, interest peaking at the thought of an eight believing they were good with a knife. Jacynth could make due with most weapons, whether it was a blade, a spear, or even a bow. She's been trained to use them all, but swords were her favorite. The idea of holding a sword loosely in her grip and being able to strike with a relentless speed always made her feel better.

"The best." Doubt fills her senses as she stares at him unflinching. Knives were normally the best weapons of the non-career districts. Easier to get ahold of than a sword or an axe, which lead to many of them thinking they were the best with knives. Jacynth has faced many boys and girls from poorer areas in four thinking a knife will get them far, but never truly getting them there. "I was the best, once." The missing fingers bleed into her vision, almost a reminder of what Rene's lost and the uselessness that bleeds from his skin still. A silence fills her for a moment as she lets the sound of crunching snow fill her mind.

"Good." Her eyes studying him for a moment, letting herself accept that even if Rene wasn't the best with a knife, he'd still be useful in some capacity. For a moment, she almost thinks to leave it there, but trust is something that needed to be built. Even between someone like Rene from Eight, Jacynth knew she couldn't do this alone for now. "I prefer swords to knives, but I can make do with whatever." Letting Rene know about her strengths with a sword was the best means to getting the guy to trust her, even if it's enough for just a bit now.

Rene stops suddenly, the sound of crunching reaching her own ears. Ambush. Her mind screams at her. Instincts almost daring to kick in, but Rene moves first. Instinct kicking in to his bones as he dives into the snow with a crunching sound that reaches her ears. Ambushes like this were pretty rare for the games nowadays. She's almost impressed with the new people, but she doesn't move until now, stepping to the side, reaching into the snow at a glittering handle, flipping the side open to a silver blade.

A knife staring back at her in her grip.

It would have to do.