Chapter 10.
Although the Games were set to take place the very next day, Eamon and Madeline were sure of one thing: they couldn't wait to leave the apartment. They hated it. They hated the stupid honeycomb-patterned wallpaper, they hated the obnoxious-looking abstract furniture, and most of all, they hated being cooped up inside it whilst awaiting whatever hoops the Capitol would make them jump through next. So much did their confinement irritate them that they didn't particularly care for the state they left it in, with Madeline innocently resorting to knocking over vases and glasses here and there when no-one was around. A small rebellion perhaps, but oh so liberating.
And here they were once again, this time waiting for the Gamemakers to call them down to show their skills and be scored. Eamon paced around incessantly while Madeline sat with her arms folded and her leg bouncing up and down furiously. Ten minutes turned into an hour, which turned into two, which turned into four, with nothing to do but wait. After what felt like an eternity, the door finally opened to reveal two large Peacekeepers.
"Eamon Cunningham, it's time for your private Gamemaker session."
Eamon looked back at Madeline, Nott and Vivian. Nott nodded reassuringly while Madeline's expression of irritation had quickly changed to one of concern. He nodded in turn and headed through the doorway, escorted by the Peacekeepers on either side slightly behind him. One subdued elevator trip later he once again walked into the Training Center, but this time he was all alone. Aside from the platoon of Peacekeepers and training assistants lining the walls, and Gamemakers looking down on him from up high in their booth. He stood in front of them and looked up at the familiar fiery-headed figure.
"Welcome Mr. Cunningham," said a smiling Ambrose, "Today you will display your skill of choice. You have fifteen minutes to do so and are free to use any stations, tools or assistants to help you do so. Your time begins now."
Part of Eamon wanted to use his prior irritation to drive him, but he had a plan and made a point to stick to it for once. He took a series of deep breaths to clear his mind before getting to work. Quickly taking the glaive from its usual location, he asked Ambrose for a sparring partner and a mix of curiosity and concern crossed the Head Gamemaker's face.
Of course, sparring partners weren't merely proficient with a single kind of weapon, but with many. Eamon hoped to turn this to his advantage; given how the glaive was seldom-used by tributes he anticipated the sparring partners were similarly out of practice with it. Ambrose beckoned to Darius, a well-built man a few inches taller than Eamon, with rough-looking sideburns. Darius also took up a glaive before standing several feet opposite Eamon in the center of the room.
Eamon wanted to show off the depth of his training, and what better way to do so than to treat it like an actual training session? Only for once, he would take the role of Nott, and Darius would be the student, assuming he had the patience for it.
They locked eyes and Eamon lunged, making a blatant thrust at Darius' chest. Darius swiftly parried before bringing the blade over his head and down upon Eamon's. Eamon sidestepped faster than Darius anticipated, bringing the glaive back around his abdomen and up to Darius' exposed neck. There was silence as the cool edge of the blade halted less than an inch from Darius flesh. He had lost.
"An obvious trick," said Eamon seriously, in his best impersonation of Nott. "Lesson one: never assume your opponent is a beginner. Let's go again."
Darius bared his teeth slightly and swallowed, before taking up his prior position. This time, he made the first move, with a low horizontal slice at Eamon's legs which was neatly deflected by the butt of Eamon's own weapon. Eamon followed through with a brutal counter, aimed squarely at his left rib that was barely blocked in time with Darius' guard, albeit at the cost of temporary imbalance. Eamon pounced on this, and began to move to his right, striking hard and fast at his flank all the while. Darius was forced to compromise his technique and go on the defensive using both hands, and barely holding on. Eamon ended it once again by getting the grip of his weapon between Darius and his own, yanking the glaive out of his hands. It fell to the floor with an audible clatter.
"There's your second lesson, don't remain static. Keep moving. Fluidity and footwork will allow you to zig when your opponent zags. Let's try again."
Darius was clearly getting frustrated at being so easily embarrassed by a teenager. It showed in the following duels but didn't diminish his skill. Eamon was unsure whether it was his advice making him angry or simply that Darius was taking him more seriously but either way, their fights became gradually more intense as time went on. He unintentionally and unexpectedly went too far on a couple of occasions however, leaving Eamon with some light scratches on his calf and forearm, before realising that it wouldn't bode well to maim a tribute on the eve of the Games. Those minor injuries however, were nothing compared to those Eamon had left Darius with. He'd rapped him across the head and ribs several times, with noticeable bruising and swelling beginning to form. His clothes were tattered in several places where Eamon's glaive had punctured them whilst scarcely avoiding flesh. Reflexively and instinctively, Eamon clearly outmatched him.
"You have one minute remaining Mr. Cunningham," called Ambrose.
Time to leave a lasting impression, thought Eamon.
He and Darius stood opposite each other one last time, and immediately Eamon rushed him. It quickly became clear to Darius that Eamon had been merely toying with him thus far, as he moved with speed, grace and deliberation far beyond what he had shown so far. Eamon's weapon didn't so much swing through the air as it did dance, whirling rapidly and flowing freely from one hand to the other. He bombarded Darius with attacks from all angles at his head, neck, abdomen, and ankles and there was genuine fear in Darius' eyes as it was all he could do to hold Eamon at bay. He staggered back slightly, and Eamon seized the moment to get down low and sweep his legs out from under him with a swift kick. Darius collapsed with a groan and looked up at Eamon, seething, with the glaive pressed cleanly against his throat.
"And your last lesson? Don't fuck with me," he said clearly, looking up at Ambrose as he said that last part. Given the opportunity, Eamon would never 'train' someone as brutally as he had with Darius, but under the circumstances he doubted he'd lose much sleep over it.
Ambrose smiled, "Thank you for your presentation Mr. Cunningham. You're free to go. Would you mind informing Ms. Skylock that she is due for her session?"
Eamon inclined his head grudgingly at the Head Gamemaker before removing the glaive from Darius' throat and placing it back at its appropriate weapon rack. He headed out towards the elevator, escorted once again by a pair of Peacekeepers. He didn't realise until exiting the elevator just how much of a sweat he'd worked up.
He opened the door to the apartment to relieved expressions all round.
"How'd it go?" asked Nott quickly.
"Uhh… I don't know yet I guess," Eamon mumbled.
"Sorry, stupid question."
"Madeline, they're waiting for you," he told her.
She blanched but looked determined.
"Any last-minute advice?" she asked.
"Stick to what you know, but don't be afraid to take the initiative."
She had a puzzled look on her face but hugged him all the same before departing. Eamon tried to unwind as best he could while waiting for her return, pouring himself a drink and talking to Fingle.
Madeline returned a short while later and was interrogated much more heavily on what she did and how she did it. It made Eamon feel slightly forgotten about by comparison, but he was used to it.
"I went in wanting to show off how I could treat wounds and stuff," she started. "And then I kind of just followed your advice Eamon and took the initiative. At least I think I did. There was a Peacekeeper in the corner that was pretty clearly hurt, did you see?"
"No, but I was kind of focused on other things, I guess. Why would a Peacekeeper stay there if he was injured?" Eamon asked the others.
"You may not like them, but Peacekeepers don't get to be Peacekeepers without being extremely disciplined, Eamon," explained Sylvia. "If they're stationed somewhere for a specific period, they stay there until that period is up, whether they're injured, dying or whatever. He's probably not allowed to leave until scoring is over. As to how he was injured I have no idea, however."
"Well, I asked if he could come over. He was bleeding and had some huge bruises and broken bones. I was able to stem the blood flow partially and use some of the plants to make some mild ointments for his bruising. He was a bit grumpy and in a lot of pain, but it seemed to help. I didn't have time to fix him up entirely, but I was able to make a splint out of some leaves and shoots for his broken leg."
Everyone looked at her, stunned.
"What?"
"That's… seriously cool Madeline," whistled Alexis.
"Yeah, I have to agree," said Nott, "I can't stand Peacekeepers as much as the next person, but it sounds like you showed resourcefulness and survivability. The Gamemakers will appreciate that. And doing something different, like Eamon says, will stand out."
"Oh. Well, cool… I guess?" Madeline stammered.
Scoring sessions continued on for just over an hour, and the Tributes' scores were to be televised just one hour afterwards in the early afternoon. Eamon, Madeline, Nott, Vivian, Fingle, Alexis and Sylvia all gathered around the television as it started. Two eccentric-looking figures appeared on screen whom Eamon recognised as Malmedy and Primo – the commentator duo for the Games. Malmedy's flowing, shoulder-length hair was dyed green with streaks of purple throughout and clashed horribly with his bedazzled gold jacket, whilst Primo's well-trimmed stubble and ponytail complimented his own grey blazer handsomely.
"Grrrrrreetings one and all, happy Hunger Games!" exclaimed Malmedy excitedly. "The time has come, the big day is tomorrow, and let me tell you, Primo and I are simply beside ourselves, aren't we?"
"Oh yes, quite right, "said Primo noticeably more calmly. "You know Malmedy, we've been commentating the Games for almost fifteen years now and I think this year more than any other, I've realised a certain perk to this job."
"Oh really? Do tell."
"We get to see the tribute scores earlier than anyone else!" This prompted a hearty chuckle from Malmedy.
"You're spot on the money, my dear friend! Yes, we're here today to present the official scores attained by the tributes during their private Gamemaker sessions, and let me tell you folks, this years are a humdinger!"
"Absolutely, I haven't seen such a competitive field of tributes in a very long time."
Eamon wasn't sure whether he wanted to hear that. On one hand it meant that he and Madeline might have pretty decent scores, but on the other hand, it could just as equally mean the same for their opponents.
"Well, now let's get to it, hmm? Typically, we announce the scores by District each year, but this year we're going to be starting from the lowest scores and work our way to the highest ones. Just to shake things up, you understand."
"Now then," said Malmedy taking an unnecessarily dramatic pause, "With a score of 3: Karmichael Damocles of District 5."
Eamon frowned. That was the same boy he'd seen sitting by himself, not training on the first day. Now that he thought about it, he didn't remember seeing Karmichael train at all over the three days. He certainly looked strong and mature enough to get at least a 7 without much difficulty. Was he just overly timid? Was he faking it? Eamon simply couldn't get a read on him.
"No tribute received a score of 4 so let's move on to the 5s," continued Primo. "Ivanna Merchant of District 6, Spencer Nash of District 7, and Cooper Hastings of District 10."
Everyone in the room had a similar, gruesome thought – those kids scores were likely very reflective of their actual talent and would probably not survive more than five minutes.
"The tributes with a score of 6: Zoey Townsend of District 3, Timothy Crow of District 3, Owen Magnussen of District 8, and Cecilia Moreau of District 12."
Every score that passed by relieved some of the tension in the room, knowing that there were still plenty of tributes worse off than Eamon and Madeline.
"Tributes with a score of 7: Alys Redding of District 5, Paige Delaney of District 8, Nora Wormwood of District 11, and Kale Fox of District 11."
Half the tributes had gone by, but at the same time, that meant that half the tributes had managed an 8 or higher. Primo was right – this was a very competitive field.
"Tributes who received a score of 8: Jasmine Wilde of District 1, Grant Overton of District 6, Madeline Skylock of District 9, and Harvey Goodwin of District 12."
A round of cheers broke out for Madeline and a wave of relief washed over her.
"Nice one!"
"Good stuff Maddy!"
"The girl's a natural!"
"I'll say! She matched a Career with just three days' worth of prep!"
They were so busy congratulating her that they almost missed the 9s. Eamon had yet to be scored, and so had plenty of others that they were concerned about.
"We're really getting into the upper echelons now," remarked Primo. "Tributes who secured a score of 9: Axel Costa of District 1, Hilda Blythe of District 4, and Francesca Durante of District 10."
Eamon's eyes widened. He'd managed a 10? Or possibly better?
"I tell you what Primo, I'm starting to feel a bit dizzy up at these harrowing heights," chuckled Malmedy. "Tributes that achieved a mighty score of 10: Blair Lynch of District 2,"
"Nice one Eamon," interrupted Nott, "you sure know how to pick an ally."
Eamon nodded in return. She wasn't technically his ally yet, but he hoped Madeline's score of 8 had eased some of her doubts.
"Dennis Kessling of District 4," continued Malmedy.
Eamon felt uneasy about Dennis. He looked like Eamon, he used a similar signature weapon – a spear – to Eamon, and he had unnervingly caught Dennis watching him many times during training. Like he was studying him or something.
"Vesper Rhodes of District 7."
Eamon had completely forgotten about the lavender-haired girl from District 7 after the first day. She seemed strong and nice, and he remembered considering her as an ally but was side-tracked by attempting to appeal to Blair. Too little too late now though, there was virtually no time left to make more allies before the Games.
"And Eamon Cunningham of District 9."
A second, significantly louder round of cheers echoed throughout the room. Hands came from every which way to pat Eamon on the back and Vivian became so excitable that she spilled her drink all over herself. Eamon allowed himself a small smile, but something concerned him slightly in the back of his mind. He couldn't place it with all the noise until Malmedy and Primo continued talking, extinguishing their celebration like a candle in the wind.
"That's incredible isn't it?" said Primo. "According to my numbers, we haven't had four or more tributes score a 10 or higher since the 43rd Hunger Games! That's a Quarter Quells worth of Games for those doing the maths at home!"
"It certainly is remarkable," smiled Malmedy, baring pearly white teeth, "And you know, we still have one tribute remaining! With a mind-boggling score of 11: Landon Starr of District 2!"
Author's Notes: Apologies for the delay of this chapter, I hope it's worth it though. Also I feel at this point I can add a Tribute List to make things a bit more clear and concise, so here it is:
D1 Female: Jasmine Wilde.
D1 Male: Axel Costa.
D2 Female: Blair Lynch.
D2 Male: Landon Starr.
D3 Female: Zoey Townsend.
D3 Male: Timothy Crow.
D4 Female: Hilda Blythe.
D4 Male: Dennis Kessling.
D5 Female: Alys Redding.
D5 Male: Karmichael Damocles.
D6 Female: Ivanna Merchant.
D6 Male: Grant Overton.
D7 Female: Vesper Rhodes.
D7 Male: Spencer Nash.
D8 Female: Paige Delaney.
D8 Male: Owen Magnussen.
D9 Female: Madeline Skylock.
D9 Male: Eamon Cunningham.
D10 Female: Francesca Durante.
D10 Male: Cooper Hastings.
D11 Female: Nora Wormwood.
D11 Male: Kale Fox.
D12 Female: Cecilia Moreau.
D12 Male: Harvey Goodwin.