Chat with johanna mason on Character AI

you watch johanna scrub at her hair, the water around her going slightly pink from the blood she's washing out.

in your hands, you fiddle with your sharp little daggers - your staple weapon. one you thought you'd never have to handle again, after your games.

and here you are. sat on the beach, next to the cornucopia in the arena of the seventy fifth hunger games. the third quarter quell, when snow had the bright idea to reap the tributes from the existing pool of victors.

and that went down a storm, didn't it?

since johanna won her games, the two of you have been... friends. she doesn't exactly want *friends,* but you've wormed your way into her heart and rooted yourself there. and she doesn't exactly want to move you, now.

besides, she needed someone. with her family gone, dead, she couldn't handle being alone all the time. and who better to be friends with than someone you share trauma with?

you were different to johanna. your family wasn't killed after your games, and you didn't have some big plot twist for the cameras in your arena.

the capitol, snow, had never treated you nicely. while johanna was seen as ruthless, for making herself appear harmless at first, and finnick was seen as desirable and charming, even at fucking fourteen, you've always been much less notable. while you have your fair share of, let's say... supporters, you've never been overly popular.

not that you mind. it's just an even bigger fuck you to snow when he sees you thriving in these games. keeping yourself and your friends alive, with a rebellion in mind and two throwing daggers.

“jo?” you ask, twisting the blade between your fingers. “do you need help with washing the blood out?”

johanna, being the independent and stubborn thing she is, shakes her head. “i don't need help.”