Chariots, Part Two.
Lilith Ashwood — 15 years
District Three Female
The Escort's name is Reznor, not Razor, and he won't leave me the hell alone.
Half the time he's in the room, trying to make tweaks and touching my hair and commenting on the sour mood that I have apparently written clear as daylight across my face. When he's not in here he's out in the hallway gossiping, or leaning in the doorway, or asking Aukai why we couldn't have gotten a happier, more upbeat tribute, and then pretending he's trying to be quiet when he says that. That, or he forgot that I have ears and am not in fact deaf.
My Stylist's name is Karine. I think. She talks a lot and she's got a mess of blue-green curls arranged at the top of her head. She keeps putting things in the bun; pins, clips, anything that she doesn't have a hand for, and takes them out when she's ready to use them. It's weird, but effective, I guess, especially because one of the prep team members nearly knocked over the table onto me in his haste to get something for her at the beginning.
In one of the intervals that Reznor's in here, he tells me that the kid's nineteen, and it's his first year working here. That's the only useful piece of information he's supplied so far.
I don't know what he's got to be so nervous about. He's not the one who's going to get murdered.
I'm bitter. Really bitter, and everyone knows it. I'm not doing anything to make it a secret. Aukai and I spent half the night talking about how I could try to look less unimpressed during the chariot rides and later on in the interviews. Make friends in training, if I can. I don't know if any of those things are more likely to happen than another, but all of those prospects are looking bleak as of now.
"Hey, kid, you've got pretty eyes. Don't know if you're listening, though."
I snap my eyes up to Karine, who's staring at me with a faint shadow of amusement on her face.
"You alright there?"
"Uh, yeah, sorry," I blurt out. She nods and goes back to working some kind of gold wiring into my hair.
"And thanks," I tack on as an afterthought. I find myself smiling a little. It's nice to know that at least someone looks at me as more than someone who's being shipped off for entertainment. And maybe it's bad, that she's looking at me just a little too closely to forget once I die, but it's nice.
"Oh my goodness, she does smile!" One of the team says enthusiastically, her chalky white make-up almost seeming to brighten into something warmer at my reaction. I find myself rolling my eyes at that and the new kid, who had been looking on from the side, lets out a little laugh, seeming to relax a little. I find the slightest bit of bitterness sliding away, relishing in these few seconds. I can make people happy, make them care that I'm here. It's really not that hard, actually. Maybe they are a little bit more oblivious, or just fitting that Capitol-typical dumbass look, but sitting here, I don't hate them. And sure, maybe it's just these three, because Reznor's still annoying as all hell, but yesterday I thought I hated all of them.
It scares me, for a second, how quickly that turned around. They are helping, though, in small ways. When I do chance a look in the mirror I actually look alright. I've got a crown of golden and silver wires settled lightly on my head, with little gears and circuit board pieces in weird patterns across my body like some sort of futuristic queen. They're participating in this whole thing, spurring it on, but they really don't think they're doing any harm.
How can I hate people who don't even realize what they're doing?
Aukai leans in through the doorway, taking up as much room as possible in the entrance when Reznor tries to slip past him. I smile gratefully, and Reznor throws an exasperated look over his shoulder at me before sweeping back into the hallway, long coat drifting behind him.
"Don't mind him, he does it every year," Aukai explains, staring after him, ducking back through the door when a hoard of people almost trample him in their haste to get wherever they're going.
"Trying to annoy us to death before it actually happens," I mutter under my breath. Karine hits me lightly on the shoulder with a wire coil.
"Don't think like that."
"Sorry."
Since when do I apologize so much?
Since when do I ever apologize, actually. It's startling.
"She looks good, Karine," Aukai comments, squinting at the various gadgets on my clothing. "Better than mine, at any rate."
"I wish I was alive to see that," I say thoughtfully. I've never even seen his Games, come to think of it. This time it's Aukai that nudges me, shaking his head.
"Better that you didn't. It was horrifying."
"I've got pictures somewhere, sweetheart. I'll show you later," Karine whispers, pulling yet another thing out of her hair. The collection she had going on has significantly decreased in the past few minutes, I can't help but notice. Aukai throws her a half-hearted glare, but turns to leave, resting one of his hands on the edge of the door and peeking in at the last second.
"Twenty minutes until we're out!"
"He says that like we don't know," the boy says softly. He adjusts the crown on my head, stepping back for a second to examine the placement, and then moves it again, tilting his head thoughtfully. He's quiet, but surprisingly perceptive, even if he did almost knock over a table. If it wasn't for the pale, mint green hair and the silver eyes, I'd say we're quite similar. I doubt he'd think so.
"Hey, what's your name?" I ask him, peering up through the massive eyelashes they stuck on me. He goes tense for a second, turning to brush some hair over my shoulder, adjusting a strap as he does so.
"Kipling. It's a mouthful. Kip is fine, though."
"Well if you get a nickname I'm Lilly, then."
Karine and the other two look bemused by the fact that, evidently, the two quietest ones in the room are the ones choosing to converse. I don't really know why I asked him his name, honestly. The other two won't stop chattering for a minute, so I don't think I'm ready to crack that code quite yet. It almost feels wrong not to know them. They're trying to help, in whatever weird way they can.
Once I'm dead I don't think many people will remember me. My mother, because I'm all she has. Aukai, I think, remembers the names of every kid who's ever died on his watch. There's a look in his eyes that says he can't run from them. That he blames himself. Maybe I'll work on getting him to stop that before I go off. I doubt Karine and Kip will remember me for long, but they'll try with everything they have. Things here blur together after a while. Colours, people, deaths. There's been so much of all of it I'm having trouble keeping it straight.
If they're going to remember me, I'll remember them. For as long as I can, anyway. I don't have much time left.
And maybe, a few years down the road, or twenty or thirty, someone will remember and it'll be enough. I mean, I doubt it. But I think if I said otherwise, Karine would hit me again.
Eitta Wills — 13 years
District Eight Male
I'm quite literally sitting in a closet and I refuse to come out.
They realized I wasn't going to talk, or move, or do much of anything about five minutes after they met me. Della tried to stay with me, for a bit, because I'm alright with her around, but they shooed her out not long after. When I refused to unclamp my arms from around my sides they agreed to let me change into the outfit myself.
I do really think this is a closet, which means that every other tribute is getting dressed with the help of four or more people. I'm not technically supposed to be in here, I don't think, but now that I am I have no interest in coming out. I locked the door after the first time they asked me if I was done and it's been that way ever since. They're starting to get angry. More than one of them's pacing; I don't think they can find Della.
I'm supposed to be out there, but if I have go get onto a chariot in front of thousands of people I'll either throw up, start crying, or both. Even if I could stop myself from doing those things no one would care. I've got no hope. I'm just waiting to die and praying that it's quick and mostly painless.
There's more knocking on the door, followed by more chattering.
"You gonna come out now?"
I don't respond. I don't know why they're bothering; I haven't said anything to them since I've come in here. By now they're probably trying to find something to break down the door with, but I doubt any of them would be strong enough to actually do it.
Maybe I could just skip the chariots altogether. I mean, I don't think they would let me, but it's a nice thought. They'll probably get security to drag me out if they have to, and that won't help my anxiety at all.
There's a brief pause of silence and the sounds of more footsteps. Guess it's happening sooner than I thought it was going to. Quiet, rushed arguing breaks out, and there's the distinct sound of several people just outside the door. Maybe I should move.
I can't quite make out what any of them are saying, but there are familiar voices mixed in with their Capitol accents. That's definitely Della. For a second I think I can even hear Kiero, talking in a calm, level-headed manner. Trying to reason with them to leave me alone for a few moments. Eventually I hear footsteps retreat from the room, and then there's a soft, barely there rapping on my door.
"Hey, Eitta?"
Definitely Kiero.
"We know you don't want to come out, but it's just us two in here now," Della chimes in. I can almost hear the hopefulness in her voice.
I rise out of my crouched position on the tile, creeping up to the edge of the door. I turn the lock as quietly as possible and open the door a crack, peeking out. Kiero's standing about a foot away from the door, eyebrows raised as I glance around the room. Della's standing just behind him. The rest of them are gone. I open the door the slightest bit wider and slip out, closing it silently behind me.
"I know it's overwhelming, and the chariots are going to be even harder, but we don't really have a choice, dear," Della says sympathetically, reaching out to place a gentle hand on my shoulder. I nod slightly, avoiding her eyes. I still don't know what I'm supposed to do. I'm terrified and I don't even know how to tell them that they're the only two people I can stand being around without wanting to run.
Della makes Kiero go first, presumably to stop whatever shrieking Capitolite who runs across us next from terrifying me head-on. Her hand is soft in-between my shoulder blades, pushing me forward, and I settle my eyes on the patchwork pattern of the coat Kiero has on. That was apparently the best they could come up with, so now we're in a matching pair of pants and shirts that really don't match at all. It all looks like a quilt someone's grandma made for them when they were five; a variety of patterns and colours all mashed together.
"I'm not going to take you guys any further," Della says, stopping us at the elevator. "You got this?"
She looks at Kiero when she says it. She doesn't trust me to do much else other than stand still and not talk, or do much of anything, really, but she still knows I'm capable enough to run from him if I really wanted to. Now that I'm out in the open, though, I don't think I would chance it. Too many people. Too many opportunities to get lost. He nods, though, and she gives me one last calm, reassuring smile, before disappearing down the opposite hallway.
There are two other people in the elevator when we get on; the Nine girl and the small girl from Twelve. Instantly the former waves at the two of us, smiling along with it.
"Elora, District Nine."
"Kiero, and this is Eitta."
I throw the smallest of grateful glances in his direction. Elora's eye skate over me, settling on me for longer than I'd like.
"Not a talker?" She asks, tilting her head. I stare back at her. The Twelve girl, yet to say a word, glances between us in silence. Finally I shake my head the slightest bit, returning my eyes to my shoes. I can tell she wants to say more, or ask more, but I'm uncomfortable enough already. Elora resumes talking to Kiero, saving me from having to mortify myself any more than what's already transpired.
I tense up again when the elevators dings open not ten seconds later, letting in the Six boy. We all go silent, watching as he walks through the doors. Instantly Elora scoots over, patting the wall beside her with a smile, saving us from all gawking at him like idiots, wondering why the hell anyone would want to volunteer for this. He leans against the wall next to her and shoves his hands in his pockets. I don't think he's much of a talker either, but still shows more personality than I did when Elora introduces all of us to him, something like calm confidence radiating off of him.
I wish I could be like that. I really do. I've been a background object my entire life, and I'd be more than happy to let the floor swallow me whole or sit down in a corner of the chariot when we roll out. I barely even notice the Two boy get in, but I slide over enough that I'm practically entirely behind Kiero.
Certain people are made for this. Not to fight, or anything, but to have a chance. Smile and be positive like Elora, have some amount of confidence in themselves like Kiero and the Six boy, Spens. I don't know how they manage it. I don't know how the girl from Twelve who's name I've already forgotten hasn't cried, or the boy from Two who's looking at all us evenly, knowing fully well that he'd happily kill all of us right now if someone let him.
For a long time ago I've been fine with being overlooked, with being forgotten about. But right now it feels lonelier than ever.
Amara Williams — 17 years
District One Female
The chariots go about as well as I expected.
Really, they didn't go bad by anyone's standards. The catcalls and the whistles from both the majority of the men and even some of the women were interesting, to say the least. It's the angle I'm playing. It's the image I've been giving people for as long as I can remember, so it's nothing new. Still though, it's unsettling to see how little they care for me as a person. As long as I'm attractive and wearing a minimal about of clothing, they could care less about my personality.
There's still tons of screaming and cheering going on in the background. The President already gave her speech, not that it mattered, because I don't think half of the other tributes we're listening anyway. Estelle certainly wasn't. She was wedged between Camilla and I, playing with the ends of her outfit. They went younger with her, trying to appeal to her childish nature. Meanwhile I'm dressed in something that quite literally only covers the important parts with thick, heavy clusters of diamonds and glitter. Camilla's in something similar, but I think she must have snapped at them to, you know, not do that. I tried that angle but they ignored me after a few seconds. Apparently you lose all viable opinions here.
Valiant takes my hand and helps me down from the chariot. He tries the same with Estelle, who side-steps and hops down herself, not too gracefully. I feel like she's trying to fit in with us but doesn't quite know how to do it. She sticks close enough that she knows she's on the outskirts, but doesn't get too involved to actually make us like her. I don't know what her goals are. I don't think anybody does.
There are swarms of people around; camera crews and prep teams and other tributes, all milling around in a general state of disarray and chaos.
"Uh hey, Amara?"
I turn towards the voice, looking directly at Ross, who's appeared behind me in a matter of seconds. We talked to him a bit earlier on, and by talked Camilla and I did most of that, and Estelle stared at him vacantly, occasionally interjecting with some snappy, nonsense comment. Behind him are the two Four girls. The other guy is nowhere to be seen.
"This is Sheridan and Astrid," he says, pointing in turn. Sheridan leans forward, shaking my hand warmly, her posture calm and refined, and moves on to Camilla. Astrid does the same, but by the time they get to Estelle, she's standing back, eyes mistrustful. She takes their hands warily, like she's afraid they're going to bite her. I just don't understand. She's trying to make allies, not scare them off.
"So, we're all good?" Camilla asks, looking at the circle of them. I notice she doesn't make eye contact with Estelle. We all nod, though, looking around in affirmation. Seems like we are, then.
"Where's Hariwin? And Terron's his name, right?" Sheridan questions, standing up a bit taller like she's trying to find them in the crowd. Neither of them are small by any means, so I have no idea why they're not around.
Yelling breaks out about thirty feet away, rising in volume as it continues.
"Found Hariwin," Astrid pipes up. Ross groans and drags a hand across his face. Sheridan sighs deeply, obviously composing herself, before taking off towards the noise. He tromps of after her, face set in some amount of determination.
"Okay, call me interested," Camilla says, waving at Astrid and I as she takes off after the pair. I silently wish her good luck. From the looks of it, Hariwin's getting into it with the red-haired Seven girl, a smug smirk on his face. It was only a moment of time before the Seven guy stepped in, and now the volunteer is shoving his way in-between them, trying to act as some sort of stopping barrier. I'm just hoping no one starts throwing punches.
When I look back over my shoulder, Estelle's gone. That was quick. Now I'm standing shoulder to shoulder with Astrid, who's looking towards the commotion in silence.
"Not interested in intervening?" I ask her quietly. Normally I would, but not this. I'm not supposed to help people in here.
"Nah, I've got enough on my plate with him," she says casually, crossing her arms over her scaly outfit.
"Do I wanna know?"
"He's unstable at best, straight up crazy at worst," she tells me calmly. "And I've got him wrapped around my little finger. It's nauseating, but useful."
I don't really know what to say in response to that. I can flirt with whoever I want and do whatever I want with people, but manipulation has never been my strong suit. Seduction, sure, but the physical type. Every time I've tried some ounce of kindness or caring has bled into my voice and it backfires. That's what the mask is for. No one knows who you really are if you won't let them in.
"Nice outfit, by the way," Astrid says, looking me up and down before settling back on the chaos. I can't help the slight sigh that escapes, looking down at my outfit.
"I was serious. Not trying to be an ass, or anything."
"I know," I say. "It's just ... sometimes I wish it didn't have to be like this, that I didn't have to be—"
"I get it. Believe me, I do."
For a second I don't believe her, but when I look her in the eyes she gives me a small smile, a knowing one. One that says she really does know what it's like to lose yourself in all of the people who expect so much of you, what it's like to lose all of that entirely when they don't see anything in you but the prize, the competition.
I find myself smiling, at that. I thought here in the Capitol it would only get worse. More objectification, more misunderstandings, more things I had to handle but secretly couldn't.
"Hey, why don't me and you stick together? And with Ross, if we can."
I turn to Astrid, keeping my face as even as possible.
"Well, we are, I mean—"
"You know what I really mean, though. Everyone needs a friend within whatever the hell this group is gonna be," she says, nodding her head towards the diffused mass of people. One of the Four mentors had to all but drag Hariwin off and across the room. Nobody else got in trouble for it, just him.
"And what about him?" I ask her, gesturing towards him. She looks thoughtful, glancing over to him with a certain degree of curiosity in his eyes.
"We see how far he can go. And once we're done with him, we kill him."
I don't want to kill him. I don't want to kill anybody, really, but now that I'm here I have to. They don't let victors walk out by pure circumstance. I trained for this. I know I can kill somebody, I just don't know if I'll be able to look them in the eyes and do it.
I need this, though. I want this. A friend. Safety, security. A guarantee.
"Deal."
Oh my goodness, training next, guys. This is so much more fun to write now that they're all interacting, especially when Hariwin's main goal is harassing everyone. I did contemplate him punching someone, just couldn't decide who. That might still happen. Anyway, keep up the reviews because I love and appreciate every single one of them. As well, give me your thoughts, maybe, on what you think this will look like by the end of training, if you're up to it. Who do you see allying, which relationships will cause conflict, etc. I'd be interested to know.
Also, poll results are up on my profile, if you're interested in checking those out.
Until next time.