All credit to Suzanne Collins, with some original characters. This chapter is still setting things up. Best, BestBrass
Copper was just starting to feel her first nerves since her surprise reaping. "Stick to the swords," Lyme had told her. "Show everyone you aren't completely useless so they don't suspect, but you're not to show off, got it?" It wouldn't be a problem. She was already hungry, and lunch wasn't for another few hours.
"What do I want to score in the private training?" Copper had asked.
"Do a mediocre job. Try to aim for whatever you think an eight would be. Now go."
Copper caught the elevator with Emmer, and the two got on with the tributes from Four and Seven. The tributes from Four seemed nice enough, but Copper made a mental note about the girl from Seven. She was almost as tall as Emmer, built strongly, and gave the newcomers a bright smile.
"Good morning. You must be that other girl's replacement." Copper nodded.
"I'm Rhymer, District Seven. This is Brannock." A quick glance at the District Fours revealed their annoyance at her pep. Copper thought it was a nice change, though.
"I'm Copper, this is Emmer." He had the decency to nod in greeting. The doors opened and the tributes entered the training center.
Once the stations were open, Copper grabbed a sword, and she and Emmer sparred with the trainers for a time. She found herself taking more water breaks than usual in an attempt to fill her stomach. The standard sword was her weakest skill, yet she found she still excelled at it compared to the other tributes. She ignored the smirks from District One and the boy from Eight who had been especially ferocious with a broadsword.
"It's too bad you were reaped this year, you'd be an expert in a couple years otherwise," Zither, the District One girl commented. Her face was nice enough, but Copper inwardly grated at the condescending tone. Zither tossed her shining hair and buried her sword into one of the dummies behind her, not needing a second glance. The tip of the sword entered the stomach, and lodged upwards into the lung region.
The first aid station was Copper's favorite, and the instructor showed her how to thread her own hair into different stitches she'd never seen before. The middle-aged man running the station seemed please with the work she did, so Copper wandered over to the fitness station. Hopping onto the treadmill, she set it for a regular clip and started up, figuring she'd go until lunch. She felt like she was wasting time, if anything. No one had been impressed with her swordsmanship, and with good reason. She was only effective with a sword when her opponent wasn't better than her. Surely Lyme knew that if she looked that helpless, the others would descend on her the first chance they got? Couldn't she just through a couple knives, or jab a few elbows? Emmer came and got her for lunch, and she was glad to have killed a couple of hours working out. Together, they dug into lunch, ignoring the puzzled looks from others around them. Let them think we'll eat ourselves dead, Copper thought. We'll surprise them.
"You can run really far," the twelve-year-old girl from Five had decided to eat with them. "How do you keep up your pace?" She didn't seem to realize that the careers were giving the girl more looks, along with tributes from other districts. Copper shrugged.
"Practice, I guess. I remind myself that I'll eat soon." Copper answered, tipping her soup into her mouth. The girl gave an awkward laugh. Copper couldn't help but notice that Zither and her district partner Furr were giving each other derisive looks. The girl, Valora, didn't seem to have the social awareness to notice, and invited herself to sit down. She began speaking to everyone, explaining everything about herself and her family at home, her cat called Rumples, and the blueberry bush by her house's front door. Why couldn't life be as simple as it was in Valora's own little world, Copper wondered. She imagined it would be so much more relaxed to be able to stand up when the bell rang and say how much she loved making new friends the way Valora did. But it was time for Copper to head back to the sword station and pretend she was better at it than she was.
The assistant at the sword station who trained with her started to give her encouragement. Originally, he had spent time trying to correct her grip on the sword. She held it as she held her daggers, in a hammer grip, blade pointing down, and used a style that was more fluid and artistic than practical. He had tried to get her to switch hands, to see if she was consistent, only to find that she held it properly in her left hand, with the blade extending up from her hand, where her thumb wrapped around. Eventually, he gave up and worked on improving her reactions. Copper was relieved to see an inkling of respect on the faces of some of her fellow careers.
The obstacle courses were competitive, and Emmer nudged Copper. If they were going to sell how mediocre she was, she had to do moderately well on the course. The tributes from One did alright, but where they were forcefully strong, they lacked dexterity. Emmer, having grown up climbing all over and around the mountains with Copper and the other Katona children, ate through them without breaking a sweat. Copper went, and found that she was equally prepared. She leaped, hooked and rolled without much difficulty, but came to a dead-stop towards the end. From the floor, this jump had seemed nominal, especially when the other careers did it. Copper was about a foot shorter, and wasn't so sure she could make it. The gap was about Copper's height, and she'd have to reach to grab the next landing. Retreating to the back edge of her platform, she took a breath and accelerated before leaping. Time froze for a moment, and Copper was painfully aware of all of the eyes watching her from below. Then her hands found the edge of the next platform, and she gripped it before hauling herself up. Stopped herself from making an unnecessary kick to show off her upper body strength.
The rest of the course was simple, and when she landed on the main floor of the gymnasium, she found Emmer looking at her. He gave her a subtle nod, showing that she'd done well. Other tributes had given her wary looks and avoided direct eye contact. The other careers began to focus on their future prey, which thankfully didn't include her. They considered her a non-threat, but skilled enough to want to avoid a confrontation at the outset. Lyme knew what she was doing, and Copper felt a new appreciation for her.
"Remember," Lyme had said, "show them your athleticism and your knives. The mentors can anonymously request specific weapons and I'll make sure to request an axe, so don't reveal it, now." Copper was just glad she was slated to go early on for the private training session with the Gamemakers. She and Emmer waited in silence, leaning shoulders against each other. She was called, and Emmer gave her a quick hug as she stood.
Copper had thought she would have been wired, standing below the Gamemakers, who sat with their notes and wine glasses, but found she was centered. Just as well. She strapped a vest on, which clinked from the knives in its many pockets. A breath. As she began to let it out, she bolted forward, hooking a knife in her right hand. She threw it at a dummy, leaping to catch on a hanging rope. Swinging back, she caught another dummy with her feet on its shoulders, toppling it and slamming another knife into the crown of its head. Clove had always been better with knives, able to hit her mark every time, with the intimidating rotating throws. Copper threw straight knives with no rotation, requiring slightly less accuracy.
She felt on fire. She was made for acrobatics. Somersaulting off the dummy, she kept her momentum as she slashed, stuck and gutted dummies, throwing in some punches and kicks. How could she have ever doubted herself? She was, pound for pound, stronger, even, than Zither or Bannock. And she knew she was faster. Focus, she berated herself. Don't just give them an artistic demonstration. Show you can be strong. The dummies were set at a standard 120 pounds, and Copper knew she wouldn't stand a chance if pinned down. Lying down, she rolled the dummy over her and lay there for a moment. Holding the dummy by the shoulders, as if pinned down, she grabbed it by the neck with her left hand and the chin with her right and jerked, breaking the inner structure of the dummy's neck. As she stood, she allowed herself to breath audibly. Let them think she was a little more winded.
"Thank you, Miss Katona." One of them dismissed her, and she rode the elevator up. A good job, Copper hoped. She had pushed herself, she knew, but in her secondary weapons.
How had it gone? What did you do and what did they say? Those were the questions waiting for her on the second floor, and she answered them as best she could. Emmer arrived soon after and looked pleased with himself. His had been excellent. He'd shown his abilities with a sword, spear and knots, and the Gamemakers had given him compliments. Copper felt her stomach clench at that. Compliments were not something she had received. Feeling sick, she was glad Lyme had send their avoxes away with the trays of food. She couldn't eat for the moment.
Zither had scored a nine, and Furr followed with a ten. Copper hadn't realized she was holding her breath until she saw her face next to a nine on the screen. Emmer's name and face were next, and a bright ten appeared next to it. Lyme gave Copper a small smile. They finished watching the scores, which spanned from a four to another nine. They were mostly made of sixes and some sevens. When it was over, Lyme tapped her on the shoulder and they went to their side room.
"Time to start thinking about the interview," Lyme commanded. "You're still the awkwardly sweet girl. Confidant, but self-effacing. Should be straightforward, because you'll be playing yourself." Copper didn't have time to question whether Lyme's passing comments were meant as complements or insults, because they were shooed to bed. The next day was spent doing some last minute practicing. The gymnasium was empty aside from Emmer and Copper, because the other tributes were presumably preparing for the interviews that evening. That was what the Katona siblings should have been doing, Copper thought. Although on second thought, Emmer was rather reserved, and his size and score would make him just seem like the strong, deadly, silent type. And if Lyme wanted Copper to just be herself, whatever that meant, then she might know best.
"Copper! What a night!" Caesar cried. Copper was taken aback at Caesar's mannerisms and personality. "Have a seat. So, are you feeling prepared?" His teeth were so white, they dazzled. Now sitting next to him, Copper saw that they were coated in an extra layer of enamel.
"I'd better be," Copper said mixing nerves with cheer. "I've been preparing for this my whole life, and its finally here."
"Now, I have to take a moment. Charm Inchcape, aged eighteen, died just after the reaping. When did you hear about it?" Caesar's brows furrowed slightly, creating his face of concern and concentration.
"Well, we have this tradition in my family," Copper began. Just be yourself, Copper thought. "where, after the reaping, we'll go up the mountain behind our house. We'll pick flowers and bring them back to our parents." Probably best to leave out that the sunflowers are a dark way of showing that flowers are the next closest thing to filling the void their children left. "We got back, and the Peacekeepers were there." Technically not accurate chronologically, but close enough.
"One of the questions being asked around here is whether there were any other girls whom Charm trained with - older girls more qualified to play? In other words, do you know why you were sent?" Caesar's eyes intently studied Copper's.
"I suppose it was because I was the best," Copper answered, kind of joking. The audience made a collective noise of approval and condescension. In the way that you might view the chihuahua who has declared itself capable of taking on a great dane. Approval for bravery, irony for being doomed. The jipped career.
"Now, you come from a very prominent family in District 2, is that right?" Caesar prompted. Copper nodded. The audience waited in anticipation. "Your family is quite known for its dedication to both the Capital and its priority of family." She nodded again. She had expected this. The Capitol loved legacy careers. They loved tragedy, too, so a tragic legacy career was being savored.
"Your grandfather, Thorburn, was the first one in the family to win the Games." Copper dipped her head in ascension. "Your eldest brother, Cadfael," Caesar recited, "was the first one of your generation to return the honor to the Katona family." The audience murmured for a moment, an air of excitement about it.
"We're technically cousins," Copper added, "but we've always considered ourselves to be siblings." Another 'aww' from the audience.
"Your second eldest brother, Rye, won the Games as well," Caesar continued. The audience began to hush, waiting to hear, again, the story they all knew so well. "and your third brother, Strate, entered the games after him. Sadly, he did not emerge from the arena, did he?" Copper had planned on allowing herself a small, sad smile before moving on, but found her reactions became lethargic. She felt her face go dead, her shoulders droop slightly. Her smile faltered. Focus, Copper coached herself. She reset her shoulders, replaced what she thought was a smile.
"Correct," Copper managed to sound smooth and even. The audience was dead silent. Drinking in Caesar's sad smile. Copper saw her own face on the screen from the corner of her eye. Stoic. Better fix that. "We were in shock for a while," Copper explained, realizing Caesar's prompt. Be yourself, Copper. "We're still so proud of how far Strate got. He worked so hard growing up, and he was looking forward to thanking all of his sponsors personally, had he gotten the chance. I guess we were just glad that Annie Cresta won in Strate's place, because she's such an honest and deserving victor." The audience practically swooned at that. Copper felt a pang of irony, because she realized that what she had said was true. She had often heard her aunt and uncle talking. They were glad Annie had won, instead of Ovid Stendis, who was a twisted boy, and had made a show of boasting about every kill. He had won, and had only died when Strate had dived beneath the water to flee from Ovid who followed, and Strate had led him through muttated piranhas-infested debris.
"What a dignified answer!" Caesar cried. Copper was feeling shaken, though she knew she had answered well. How many more questions about her family did he have? Luckily, the rest of his questions were about her, and Copper answered them while feeling Lyme's eyes drilling into her. It finally ended, and Copper returned to her seat, between Furr and Emmer. At least now she could just sit and look pretty, with no one paying attention to her. Caesar had other plans. He spent time having a one-sided conversation about Emmer's skills and abilities because Emmer, unusual for a career tribute, only answered with single words or nods and shakes.
"Emmer," Caesar said. He had already tried to get Emmer to chat or respond with more than one or two words to no avail thus far. "Are you aware that you have made history?" Copper watched with the other tributes, as Emmer's face showed confusion on the screen.
"What do you mean?" Four syllables. Caesar must be warming him up.
"Well, not only have you brought a sibling to the Games, but the Games have never seen one family give as many tributes, let alone victors, to the Games as yours." Confusion, surprise and excitement swept through the audience. Emmer and Copper hadn't been aware of this, but apparently the media had kept quiet about the sibling relation between Emmer and Copper. Somehow, no one had made the connection between Copper's media craze and her district partner who looked like a carbon-copy of their older family members. How stupid were they in the Capitol? Emmer recovered some.
"Oh. I guess so." Caesar slapped him on the back in jest. He was a top-rate performer, because he seamlessly transitioned to a tone of concern.
"You were among the top scorers, which fits your lineage and training. And it's clear from what your sister says," The audience was silent again. "that the Katona family is quite close. But it seems to me that this might mean a clash of family values." The audience began to buzz, catching on to Caesar's point. "Never before have siblings been entered in the same Games before. What do you expect will happen?" The expansive room was silent again. No one breathed. Emmer sat as if stilled through meditation. Then he spoke his first full sentence.
"There can only be one." No one was sure if Emmer would elaborate, so everyone continued their silent game. Copper saw that Emmer's, Caesar's and her own face were all featured on the screen. Then Caesar piped up, time running out.
"Indeed, Emmer. Everyone, District Two's Emmer Katona!" The audience erupted in applause, but not the usual cheers. This perplexed Copper. Were they bored of the fanfare? Emmer sat in his chair and they both saw that the siblings were focused on the screen. Looking ever so related, now that the Capital had cared to notice. The rest of the interviews were straightforward, with the audience alternately swooning over tributes they loved and providing polite cheering for the ones they thought would simply die. Manners were everything, afterall.
The tributes were herded to their respective mentors, and up the elevators to their floors. Both siblings could see the mentors were pleased with the attention they had garnered, but the four of them were silent as they rode the elevator and prepared for dinner. Emmer and Copper spent the evening eating. They didn't want to watch the interviews be aired and rehashed again and again. Lyme had told the avoxes to bring regular trays of food to each tribute, since she wanted them to eat as much as possible. The floors for Districts One through Six had balconies enclosed in force fields. The balconies offered a much smaller garden, though most tributes usually chose to use the rooftop, or so Brutus had said. Emmer and Copper took their trays to the balcony garden and sat together. They were silent until Copper spoke. Brutus had flipped on the television and was blasting the volume. They were only two floors up from the streets, and their merrymaking was even louder. Copper felt confident that any listening devices would have trouble dissecting what she said.
"Snow wants us to be a final punishment to Cadfael and Rye," she murmured. Emmer said nothing, just picked some grapes and ate. "He didn't care if it was me or Clove," she continued, "wanted us to decide. I volunteered." Emmer still said nothing, but looked at her, sucking on a rib. "I told Aunt Amber I'd send you back."
"That's stupid," Emmer responded. "Why'd you do that?" He ignored the last thing she said, choosing to focus on her impulsiveness.
"You know Clove is too delicate. She shouldn't ever go." they knew this was true. She had always been the brazen, more confident one of the twins, but was more fragile, as it turned out. Watching Strate's death had driven her to a rage that had taken months to die down. When the fever of her anger receded, it had left a madness that remained.
"You're not so different," Emmer commented after a minute. He saw Copper's questioning look. "Clove's always been more expressive than you, and you're more stoic, that's true. But you both have the same capacity for things." He took the tray's knife and cut into an apple.
"Capacity for things?"
"For anger, humor, impulses, stuff like that. You just use it differently. I'm surprised you got the jump on Clove to volunteer." Copper had been surprised, too. She took up her own knife and began slicing a persimmon. A long companionate silence held between them. Then Emmer spoke up again. "There can only be one." They had always been close, especially after being orphaned, so Copper read him immediately.
"Aunt Amber has always favored you. She's loved us all, but she loves you most. I can't go home to her, now. It has to be you."
"I won't do it." Emmer said aloud. I won't kill you, he meant. They were at an impasse, and they both knew that when push came to shove, Emmer would have his way.