Carameuse Heloise, 48
Capitol Citizen
She sits in the dining carriage and wipes her mouth primly, the lace-patterned napkin wiping away the sauce around her mouth. She still doesn't enjoy sitting here among the finest the Capitol has to offer: the twelve escorts for this year's Games, game makers, and business tycoons all rub shoulders in this train. But Carameuse isn't one of them. She's always found comfort in hiding in the lower parts of the Capitol, meeting the people who are not rich beyond their wildest dreams. Money does strange things to people; she's seen contract killings time and time again in her career. She prefers the simpler ones, the ones who are honest enough to trust one another and work for their living. They aren't motivated by money, something that the President had suggested as a motive.
But her mastermind isn't motivated by just a few sesterces. It's something more… something malevolent.
An escort stumbles along the aisle with a woman by his side, drunk out of his mind and another glass of champagne in his hand. The girl is clad in a red dress that clings tight to her sides, her dark black hair spilling down her back in a neatly arranged frame of curls but the escort has the more curious attire, sporting bright green hair and a strange mustache that clamours for attention on his tattooed face. The escorts are an interesting group this year, but she's already ruled them all out for the killings. None of them seem to have the mental capacity to organize a series of murders, and Fiammetta had almost ruled out them all. No, they're not of Carameuse's concern, but she may be able to use them for gossip. Escorts always seem to have more knowledge than they should, and finding one with a loose enough tongue would prove beneficial to the case.
The escort trips and falls on his own two feet, and the girl stifles a giggle before moving away from her fallen companion. An avox moves over to the man and helps him to get up, and Carameuse quickly moves out of her seat and towards the avox. Taking the arm of the inebriated escort, she flashes a serious look to the avox and points to the sleeping compartments. "He's my friend. Would you be able to help me get him back to his room?"
The avox nods and Carameuse notes his large, strong shoulder, and the calluses that cover his hands. She can see strands of grey in his dark brown hair, and his eyes are a bright blue, untainted by his avoxing. He's likely from Ten, what with his hands showing a lifetime of work and his body type. Perhaps one of the ranch owners who had crossed the Capitol. One never does quite know how avoxes are chosen, but it's rumoured to be from rebellion or downright contempt towards the Capitol. She suspects the latter for this one.
As they walk into the first sleeper carriage, Carameuse deftly reaches within the escort's pocket and takes his room card. 246, it reads, and Carameuse smiles. "So you're in the second carriage..."
The avox shoots Carameuse a puzzled gaze before continuing to move towards the next carriage, holding the door open for Carameuse to squeeze through. Carameuse smiles and moves the man towards Room 246, opening the door with the room card and taking him inside. "Thank you for your help, sir."
The avox makes a gesture with his hands when he believes that he is out of Carameuse's sight, and she calls to the tall man. "I know I'm not a friend of the escort, but you don't have to call me a thief! My word, the world is suspicious of everyone who isn't wearing a dress."
The avox gasps and turns back around, his eyes narrowing in confusion as he signs to Carameuse. She spells out the words silently, formulating her reply in seconds. "Yes, I did it to get close to the man, but I'm not stealing from him. And I learned avox-speech from one of your own. A man named Vincent. Quite the charmer, although too smart for his own good."
The avox signs once more quickly, Carameuse struggling to catch all of his signs. "You want to know my name? Carameuse Heloise. And what is yours?"
The man signs the word for heart and Carameuse frowns, looking up into the avox's eyes. "Heart? Is that your name? The organ?"
The man gives a guttural sigh and signs once more, careful to trace an E in the air before crossing it out. Carameuse nods and pushes back her hair, smiling gently at the man. "So you are Hart. Well, Hart, it's wonderful to meet you. I trust that if you have any concerns about fellow passengers or luggage, you will come to visit me in room 307. Can I trust you?"
The man nods, shaking Carameuse's hand before hurrying towards his own carriage. Carameuse smiles, sitting down in a seat facing the window and watching the scenery change from plains to tall, high mountains in minutes.
She's found her first ally.
Tourmaline de Metz, 18
District One Female
The setting sun outside of the large training centre illuminates the room in an eerie glow, causing Tourmaline and Sayana to be engulfed in an orange hue of light. Sayana gasps in delight and turns to Tourmaline, her eyes alight in the dusk. "Beautiful, isn't it? It's a time of day where you can feel like magic is real, you know?"
"I don't… but yet I do," Tourmaline whispers back, the large glass window the girls are sitting next to filling with the last glorious rays of sunlight before it vanishes altogether, leaving a dark pink sky and the moon, a pale crescent in the sky that grows brighter by the minute, to hang over the academy. "I think we should get going. After all, the One Games are coming soon."
"And you'll get a spot in it, as usual," Sayana sighs, inspecting her reddish-blonde braid for any stray hairs while trying to give a sulky look to Tourmaline simultaneously. It fails, and the girls dissolve into laughter before they wipe away their tears of mirth.
"Come on, I'll walk home with you. Maybe we'll see Armani!"
"You can't tell me this time that he doesn't have a crush on you, Tourmaline."
"He's my best friend, Sayana. We're not mashing our face together under the bleachers like you did with every poor boy who fell into your clutches the past few years."
Sayana snorts in laughter, and points merrily over to an oak tree dotting the side of the road that they've stepped out on. The dark, grey pavement is slick and unmarred, just how the Capitol likes it to be seen. It's only like this around the Academy and the Square. Everywhere else in One doesn't have to be shown on TV. "Did I ever tell you what I did with Brandon up there? Ha, he was a funny guy, but too slow for my tastes. He couldn't catch up with me!"
"I don't think anyone can, Sayana."
"You're right, as usual," Sayana sighs, pushing away the unruly braid before spotting two boys walking along the side of the road, up towards the academy. "Do you see the size of that one guy? And the other guy's hair? Stay right here. I'll only be a minute."
Tourmaline shakes her head and continues to walk, knowing that Sayana won't be back to her side until she's gotten at least one, if not both, of the poor men under her thumb. After all, Tourmaline has to get home soon to help with the kids. After all, Mother can't keep them in perfect order for this long, especially on a such a tempting night like this.
She breaks into a jog and heads through the city, looking at the flashy, ruby, garnet, and diamond adorned signs of the district. It's beautiful, but everyone knows that it's just to cover up the fact that One is poorer than most people expect. When the market plunged two years ago and the Capitol moved more towards Eight for fashionable items, even Tourmaline felt the hand of poverty grasp at her sleeve. After all, Dad didn't lose his jewelry shop for nothing.
She hears footsteps behind her and turns back, expecting Sayana to come running for comfort after they both declined her - after all, the two did seem pretty clingy towards one another, although they looked a lot like brothers, and did she spot a ring on the finger of the smaller one, the one with brown hair and a tiny scar just above his neckline? - but it's her sister, Carnelian, who races towards Tourmaline. "Tourmaline! Tourmaline! I thought I'd never be finished with training today!"
Tourmaline smiles fondly and ruffles Carnelian's hair, messy blonde curls forming a ring around her little sister's face. "You'll learn to cope with the long waiting times, Carnelian. After all, I managed to!"
"After you turned seventeen," Carnelian teases, poking Tourmaline in the ribs and scampering away before Tourmaline runs after her with a mighty roar.
"Don't hurt me! I forgot about your bruised ribs!" Carnelian squeals as Tourmaline swoops her up, trying to hold on to the small, squirming girl. "Please don't hurt me!"
Tourmaline gives an exaggerated sigh and lets Carnelian go, the younger girl scampering away to a safe distance before she hurls her next insult. "Armani told me that he wants a smooch tomorrow!"
Tourmaline yells at her sister and chases her all the way to the house, dodging the door as Carnelian flies in and shuts it in Tourmaline's face. "He's not my boyfriend! We're friends! Best friends! Why does no one understand that?"
Tourmaline pushes on the door and feels that Carnelian has already vanished, leaving the door unlocked. Tourmaline opens the door and walks inside to a cacophony of screams, her mother wiping her brow as she greets Tourmaline wearily. "The Ferrans decided to visit today."
Tourmaline stops dead in her tracks, remembering the last time the Ferrans had visited the tiny household of the de Metzes. Carnelian had somehow ended up on the roof with a Ferran, and her other little siblings had formed a pact to destroy the other four Ferrans. If only Mother wasn't related to Mr. Ferran, then the de Metzes would never have to endure this storm of small children. For a minute, she toys with the idea of stepping back out of the door and looking for Sayana. It would certainly be more peaceful…
She straightens her head and grabs a hair tie from a countertop, tying her long, waist-length hair up into a bun that the Ferrans won't be able to grab. "I'll calm them down for you, and you can spend time with their parents. Alright?"
Rhoda de Metz nods with satisfaction, letting Tourmaline hurry into the dining room and herd all of the children out in a few minutes. It takes a scratch on her arm and a broken plate to do so, but as she gets them to start playing a card game that they can all enjoy, even little Felicity Ferran, who's still only four, she can let herself relax.
It's good to be in charge.
Duchess Coruscate, 16
District One Male
It's good not to be in charge.
She adjusts the wig that she had tucked under her helmet for the One Games this week - several instructors had told her not to, that it would only be a hassle, but she needed to be Duchess for the Games - the blonde curls spilling out from the dark-grey and clunky helmet that was supposed to protect her from the fake weapons they're using for these Games. She doesn't trust them, of course. It's good not to trust things. Then, they'll never let her down.
She watches the leader of this ragtag alliance lean back and shut his eyes, unaware of the fact that she's annoyed with how he's led them through the last section of this arena. The position of leader in the alliances that inevitably pop up in these Games is notorious for being backstabbed, the others angry with their decisions. That's why she sat back and let the boys take charge of this group for the last few sections. She won't be blamed for anything that goes wrong.
A boy with bright green eyes and an uneasy frown points towards the island in the middle of this lake they're rowing through, the fake version of the cornucopia - although it could be even greater than the normal version if the victors agreed to coat it with real gold - rising out of the mists. "You three ready? We storm the island and see if we can find whoever's left. There's only eleven after the mountain section, correct?"
A girl with dark hair and serious eyes shakes her head, pointing up to the sky as a gunshot sounds in the 'arena'. "No, thirteen are left with that gunshot. The first three sections are always the easiest, and we've only got two more to go after this one's finished. You aren't paying attention?"
"I don't think anyone of us could keep track of the things you have in your mind, especially that Adumbis right next to me. You have an appointment after today, Adumbis? You better opt out of the Games before you become too bruised for your clients."
"It's Duchess to you, not Adonis," she fires back, winking at their leader, who had spoken up from his position at the back of the boat, and partially unzipping her uniform. She allows him to catch a glimpse of her tanned, unblemished skin before zipping it right back up, wagging her finger in mock anger. "Remember that when you come stumbling into my show and want to see a bit more than just this. I like to count my sesterces before I begin my show, by the way."
The girl snorts with laughter and punches the boy playfully, while the others blush and look away from Duchess. She sits back down with a haughty smile, waiting for the boat to reach the island before jumping out. The girl follows her, and they fall into line as the boys take the lead. Duchess leans into the girl and speaks softly, making sure that only the girl can hear. "I'm thinking that we get rid of these scumbags as soon as we get into the top ten. Deal?"
"Deal." The girl nods her head firmly and tucks her hair up into a bun, sliding the helmet that she had carried by her side onto her head before picking up her fallen spear. "Tourmaline, by the way. You're Duchess?"
"The only!" Duchess winks before moving ahead, fingering the whip in her hands as the boys step into the cornucopia. First, she hears nothing, but then there's a scream and three other trainees rush out with wild eyes and flecks of red paint on their uniforms. They've definitely eliminated a few other trainees, the only thing that would stain that dark of a red on the outfit would be from the delicate bags that dot the uniforms wherever the victors have deemed to be vital to survival. She fingers the one surrounding her neck before throwing herself into the melee, slashing the whip and leaving bruises on a girl's leg before she slices the neck bag with a well-placed slash. The girl shouts in disappointment and throws herself into the lake, letting her scythe drift away as she goes back to the previous section. The gunshot sounds as she continues to swim, and Duchess allows herself to smile. It's good to have a kill.
Her allies finish off the two other girls and shout in delight, unaware of the fact that Duchess and Tourmaline are right behind them with wicked grins. Tourmaline thrusts her spear forward and Duchess cracks her whip, and the paint splatters on the ground like fresh blood.
The girls run before the boys have a chance to react, pushing past the cornucopia to the next section. It's technically illegal, but trainees have been known to take revenge on their killers after they're eliminated. Neither of them wants the same fate.
They run until they reach a gate on the other side of the island, and the two pause and gasp for breath before starting to open it. Tourmaline grins at Duchess as they step into a desert climate, the heat hitting their faces like a sharp knife. "Wanna keep working together? It's good to have an ally here."
Duchess holds up her hand to silence the dark-haired girl, then grabs Tourmaline's spear and hurls it at a figure in the background. A flash of red proves that her aim was true, and Duchess' target curses angrily before stomping away to the gates. "Only five to kill before we win."
A gunshot echoes through the arena, and Tourmaline grins naughtily. "You mean four. We're going to the Hunger Games!"
Duchess smiles back, and they run through the desert section before sliding to a stop, two gates rising out of the sand that the instructors must have gathered from Four or Ten. The words Male and Female hang over each one on bright signs and Duchess turns to the male gate. "I'd come with you, girl, but I'd like to show these boys a thing or two. You win for me, 'kay?"
"For sure." Tourmaline suddenly turns serious, her face hardening as she steps through the gates. Then she pauses, fishing for something in her pocket and tossing it to Duchess. "Knives are easier for breaking the paint bags."
"Thank you!" Duchess starts to reply, but Tourmaline's already vanished into the gates. A gunshot follows suit and Duchess shakes her head, stepping through the male gate and walking down the corridor. Her future district partner's a funny one, but she can be beaten. Duchess is confident. She won't let anyone take the victory from her.
And she doesn't give the two boys who come in through the gate and try to take her spot a chance.
A/N: Our first intros! Hurrah!
Before you yell at me for taking so long, it has not been for nothing. I've finished the District Two and Four intros already, and am working on the subplot sections and District Three as we speak. I won't put out District Two until I get Three done, so that I have two districts in my pocket :3 I don't want to leave you hanging if I go into a writing slump!
Anyways, thoughts on the tributes? Any interesting parts? What did you think of Carameuse and Hart meeting? The subplot will be following us through the whole story, set about two months before the Games, so it's going to be rather exciting to do. I hope you'll like it!
Also, if you want to join some chaos and have fun on discord, pm me and I'll shoot you an invite to the Hiraeth-Verse server. I hope to get a few more of you in there to get hyped about the chaos this story will be!
Anyways, that's all I got for now. See you with District Two, which, if I write Three quickly, will be out soon. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ