The Victor of the 72nd

Name's Cutter. Cutter Davenport. You may have heard of me. I'm the victor of the Seventy Second Hunger Games, proud member of District One, and not one you'd like to cross. Don't forget that. I'm pretty good with a sword, bow and arrow, and a few daggers. I trained for my Games all my life, of course I won. There was no doubt to begin with. Anything else? {This is an Independent Hunger Games OC. Both mun and muse are over 21, and Cutter can be set before, during, or after his Games, depending on the verse and partner. Willing to RP with anyone from any fandom. Please read the about page before interacting!}

[empathd-blog]

SEND ME A ✍ AND I’LL INTRODUCE YOU TO A MUSE THAT I'D LIKE TO RP AS.

[glxmmer-blog]

     It all happened in what felt like an instant. Her arm raising and shattering the glass of the mirror, watching her reflection fall into broken fragments and make hollow noises against the floor until nothing was staring back at her but the grey backboard. 

     Stunned, it took several moments before she felt the blood trickling down her hand in an almost alarming gush, over her neatly polished and well maintained fingers. Then she was running—

     Down the stairs out of the house, going to the one person who she thought might understand. Away from the family that thought she should be nothing but proud. 

     Her reflection just reminded her; all that she’d done, all that she’d lost.

     It wasn’t a few minutes later and she was rapping on Cutter’s door with her non-bloodied hand, stepping back and looking up at him with an expression that she only hoped he would interpret as she cradled her injury.

                            “Can you help me with this?..”

[seventysecondvictor]

Cutter was having a relatively normal day - stay at home, do some gem cutting, maybe go out to have something to eat, come back home, lay down, maybe watch some movie or another, and do absolutely nothing else. He hated this life as a victor, it was boring and uneventful. He wasn't spending half of his life training for the Games anymore, not when they were years behind him. It was just all so boring.

So, when he heard a knock at his door, his brow crinkled. No one had knocked at his door in a while, not unless they wanted something from him. And he really didn't feel like doing anybody any favors that night. 

Groaning, Cutter pushed himself to his feet, moving down the stairs to his front door. He pulled it open, ready to snap at someone, when he caught the eyes of his most recent victor. "Oh..." he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What did you do to yourself...?" he asked, ushering her inside, closing the door behind her. "Go to the kitchen. I'll go get the first aid kit. Sit on the counter," he instructed sternly. "And try not to bleed on my floors, okay?"

[classicbeautycashmere-deactivat]

+seventysecondvictor

[classicbeautycashmere-deactivat]

"There are people across Panem who believe all Victors are horrible people, they don’t consider the fact we did what we did to survive and they would have done it too if they had been in our situation." Cashmere shrugged.

"Maybe we all have an attitude problem…"

[seventysecondvictor]

"I'm not going to say all, either..." Cutter shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked around. "Maybe most of us... from Career districts. But I'm not going to say that the victors from... from Six, or Eight, or Three have an attitude problem."

[seventysecondvictor]

"I forgot how boring this place was..."

[seventysecondvictor]

"Does someone want to explain to me what's going on?"

[thiswasallmychoice-deactivated2]

Put 'Obey Me' in my ask, followed by a command and my character will have to do it!

[seventysecondvictor]

(Does anyone want to thread? Inbox me, if so!)

[classicbeautycashmere-deactivat]

+seventysecondvictor

[classicbeautycashmere-deactivat]

"Some people have an attitude problem. Not you, I mean, you seem like one of the few genuinely decent people around here."

"It’s the ones who won a while back and are still bitter who you want to avoid…"

[seventysecondvictor]

"I mean, I wouldn't say that I'm genuinely decent... a few people I know would definitely disagree with you," Cutter admitted, looking down at her. "Sure, I don't think of myself as king of the world - most of the time - but I've still got an attitude problem."

[classicbeautycashmere-deactivat]

+seventysecondvictor

[classicbeautycashmere-deactivat]

"I know, it’s just that people who I mentor rarely continue to speak to me after they become the new Capitol favourite."

[seventysecondvictor]

"Why would I do that? You just said it yourself, I was your... well, you were my mentor."

[calculatingvictor]

"Accident with a power cell. Exploded, splashed something hot on me. Wasn’t fun let me tell you."

[seventysecondvictor]

"That sucks... anything I can do to help? I'm no medic, but I know some things about burns..." he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Older brother taught me a few years back... before my Games, just in case."

[calculatingvictor]

"I’m fine." Deejay waved off  his concern. "Just hit the right side…still sore from that burn." He indicated the slightly discolored skin on his right side, which was still tender from the graft. 

[seventysecondvictor]

"Burn?" Cutter asked, looking down at the skin with a crinkled brow. "What happened?"

[ninfadeloslagos]

"Now I remember, I met you at your Victory Tour!"

[seventysecondvictor]

"That's it."

[classicbeautycashmere-deactivat]

+seventysecondvictor

"Fancy seeing you around here…"

[seventysecondvictor]

"Same to you... although, I do live... right around the corner."

[calculatingvictor]

Deejay chuckled as well, rubbing his side. It ached from the impact, but it wouldn’t bruise. "Well they did say you were the best, and you certainly didn’t disappoint…so I can’t say I’m surprised."

[seventysecondvictor]

"Did I... hurt you? Dude, I just walked into you," Cutter's brow crinkled. Maybe it was from something else? "Yeah, yeah... well... that's... that's good. Glad you're happy."

[ninfadeloslagos]

"Oh, yeah! You are a victor, too! From… one? two?"

[seventysecondvictor]

"One. Seventy-Second Games."

[calculatingvictor]

"Spectacularly actually. The guy who sent me to you knew his stuff for sure." They had worked beyond his expectations…the metal he’d used them on stood no chance.

[seventysecondvictor]

"You sure it's the guy, not me?" Cutter joked, looking down at the other. "Well, good. I'm glad they worked out."

[ninfadeloslagos]

"Oh, that’s okay… do I know you?"

[seventysecondvictor]

"You might. Cutter Davenport, pleasure."