Play 'Em Like a Violin [Jacynth/Rene]

[Kingston Cesaire D3A [Tom]]

Eight seemed to be intertwined with her fate.

Poison is in the air; bubbling like the seafoam she grew up around. Comparisons of Iris O'Nyle and herself being thrown about by a boy from Eleven as if she were lesser than the careers. Dulled interest in the boy genius, but Eight's already made a name for themselves in her eyes. A boy with bandages around his hand and a girl with a legacy who volunteered like Ike O'Nyle have already become apart of her list of unique individuals who could lead to trouble. A moment of hesitation as Jacynth Voclain pushes off of the wall, burying the blank face upon her lips.

Finding bandage boy had been easier than she expected, partly for the fact that she's crossed paths silently with him before in these halls. Never taking a second glance knowing she had to make a move at some point in the games. A fleeting distaste for any others, but Jacynth Voclain wasn't stupid. Alex would have told her to make nice and befriend the boys and girls who were weak. He'd tell her to set up a plan to throw them to the wolves, poison them in their sleep, or bring the chaos to them, but Jacynth wasn't her brother. Brutality and death weren't her specialty, but something about Eight screamed scrappy to her.

Confidently, she raises her head, focuses on his hand before glancing back up to his eyes, stopping in front of the boy from Eight. She wanted to know more, learn if there was something to watch out for with a boy like him. Alex would have claimed the guy was some poor soul who would die with the rest of them. A moment to stare at the boy, let the air in the room freeze for a moment, until a crash of a rainstorm echoes along the room. A chill to run down the spine as she gives the smile from four; mastered in the years spent convincing those around her to give her what she wanted.

"Aren't you scrappy?" Eyes glancing down to the hand, wanting to know if the boy was truly injured or if it were a play for the crown. Isn't that how all eights were? Unpredictable loose cannons, but with more class than the nines. "Clearly, you've already made yourself useless." Eyes glancing to the hand as she crosses her arms before smiling back to Eight. Even if the injury is a play, she had her own secrets and plans hidden beneath the surface.

"What's your name, Scraps?"