Sitting at the bar, glass of amber liquid in-between her hands, Isabela’s eyes were on the screen above the bartender’s head. It was late, she could be back on her own floor, especially with the lack of her own tribute anymore, but Raven was still alive and she’d made a fucking promise to Trixanna, not to mention the fact her floor was entirely too quiet and her own monsters and horrors lurked in the shadows.
She looked over when she felt a presence join her at the bar, fleetingly deciding whether to ignore Walker or not. She’d only met him the day before in the training center when she’d been avoiding this exact place. “Your girl’s talking to herself.” She muttered after a moment, raising the glass of whiskey and swallowing the rest of it back in one go.
Your muse is at a bar when the one person they don’t want to see walks in. Who are they? How does your muse react?
Onyx. Quite possibly by punching him in the face. She can’t kill him - that wouldn’t look good. Neither would punching him in the face, but at least it’s better than killing him.
What childhood memory still sticks with your muse the most?
Each of her siblings’ deaths in the arenas - especially Bruno. He died in the bloodbath. The look on her parents’ faces was horrified. He’d been the brother she was closest with, her protector.
What bad habits does your muse have?
Drinking, smoking, drugs. Isabela copes with her siblings’ deaths by all of the above, and sleeping around. If she can mask her emotions with substances, or ignore them with physical pleasure then she doesn’t have to face her emotions.
What is your muse’s perception of family?
Family sucks. Her parents were horrible, only caring to get a victor out of one of their children no matter the cost. Her siblings were her one safety net, however they’re all dead.
Does your muse have any pets? If so, what are their name and breed?
Yes, Isa has a small dog - probably a chihuahua mix - named Gremlin.
If your muse could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?
The beanie her older brother Camilo gave her before his games.
What living person does your muse most despise?
Onyx - simple
What is your muse’s greatest regret?
Not volunteering in her sister, Daniela’s place. Not keeping Daniela safe. Being on the otherside of the screen and watching as her sister was dead and now being unable to do anything to her killer.
Does your muse believe in the afterlife?
No. Once you’re dead and in the ground, you’re dead and in the ground.
What criticism would your muse’s worst enemy make of them, that your muse secretly agree with?
Isabela’s fashion sense varies greatly with one common characteristic - her outfits are loud. She favors bright clothes, daring cutouts and vibrant patterns whether it be in sweats or in a form fitting dress.
Diana knew these games with Isabela were dangerous. The other was cocky and intelligent and a bitch. Diana’d certainly caught herself staring at the other woman on more than one occasion, but she also knew Isabela had a grudge against Onyx and well… that put Diana in an interesting position when it came to Isabela. “Onyx if I have my way.” She responded, pushing a stray red lock of hair from her face.
“Gross, boys.” Her nose wrinkled as if to accentuate the fact that she found the idea less than pleasing, though in reality it was just that particular male she wasn’t keen on. “A pity, I’m sure I could show you a much better time, Princess.” She shrugged and threw a glance around. “Guess I’ll have to find someone else to entertain me on a night out.”
There was a reason Isabela avoided the damn tower. Only so much distraction could be had before the reality of the fact she had failed her sister settled in or the reality that she was expected to get along with her sister’s killer to begin to irritate her. 11 in the morning was too early to drink and so, with little to do with the tributes with the arena so quiet, Isabela found herself in the deserted training center, band of shiny throwing knives strapped to her thigh, hair pulled into a high pony. A screen on the far wall on just so she could keep an eye on things, but vastly ignored.
Three knives sat, embedded in the target set several yards away from her. A fourth blade was in her hand when she heard the door to the training center bang shut. “Unless you’re here to spar, get out.” She called without even looking over her shoulder as she sent the blade in her hand flying towards the target.
Diana’d been watching one of the large screens in the lobby, cup of hot tea in hand when she’d heard the whispered greeting. She startled slightly, whirling to face to known voice with an annoyed expression. “Bela,” But she didn’t finish the thought, her annoyance flashed to alarm as she threw a glance around them, ensuring no one heard the other’s words. “Doubtful,” she remarked, annoyance and alarm gone when she realized no one was listening, replaced by a smirk, old games falling into place easily, “I’m married.”
-
Isabela chuckled when Diana cast a look around. “Careful, cher. You might just blush. Then you really would be caught.” It’d been a game, Isabela had played with the other since Diana’s first trip to the tower. But what had started as a game to get under Onyx’s skin had become a game Isabela actually found herself enjoying. “What’re you doing tonight?”
It hadn’t taken Isabela long to find Diana, the other woman’s vibrant hair making her easy to pick out from the crowd. “Hey Princess.” She murmured, centimeters away from the redhead’s ear, a smirk turning up the corners of her mouth. As much as she didn’t care for being in the Capitol, at least she got to get her fix in of messing with Diana. “Trix had to go home, which means you, lucky you, get me for the next...” she paused, moving around Diana, one index finger ghosting up the woman’s pale arm, “however the fuck long this takes. She smirked. “Maybe I’ll get into those pretty little knickers of yours before I leave.”
She was sat at the bar top in the tower lobby, a lowball glass of whiskey between her hands and her eyes on the screen above the bar. She’d been here less than twelve hours, coming to the rescue when Trixanna needed to return home to deal with a sick child, but already found herself situated at the bar. Her eyes flicked to the side when she heard the stool beside her scoot against the floor. “Fuck off, Ambre,” She muttered, “seat’s taken.” Too bad it was illegal to kill a fellow victor. Her gaze returned to the screen. Those stupid babies all had seemed to return to their base, it was only a matter of time before the gamemakers threw something else the tributes’ way.
rebecca gomez - 21 - she/her || Did you see her? I think I just saw Isabela León walk into the tribute tower. I’m so happy he’s back this year as a Mentor from District Two. She’s known as Hidden Heart of Gold because she’s so sarcastically abrasive, but is sometimes actually quite caring.
