A Beastly Night
Mercedes Virgo, Gamemakers HQ, the Capitol
The sun had now disappeared from the arena. It was time to start the fun.
Virgo reached across her desk and quickly typed an abbreviated command on the silver keys, watching her words appear on the screens in front of the other Gamemakers that crowded the small, immaculate room. A flurry of activity and hurried conversation erupted throughout the room as the individual Gamemakers received the message and reacted accordingly. "They're all settling down, Virgo," the Tribute Examiner and resident behaviorism specialist said, the precious metals in the woman's hair chiming softly as she turned her head. "Not a single one of the groups is active."
"I'm sending the final designs and locations to your desk on line seven," a mutt designer informed Virgo from across the room, going back to his work as soon as she made eye contact and confirmed that his message had been received with a nod.
"The songbirds are going to be late," a large, wheezing man named Orhior said from his seat relatively close to Mercedes. "It can't be helped either, the blasted things still aren't responding to pulse commands."
"You've been working on that all day," Virgo muttered, rubbing her eyes as she checked over the mutts on line seven.
"I know," Orhior admitted, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a gleaming silken handkerchief. "I'm logging each individual bird's command sequence into a group delivery system manually, and it's rather time-consuming."
"Consider your birds out of the Games for tonight then," Virgo exhaled.
"What?!" the man snapped. "These are my crowning achievement, you cannot just discard them."
"Yes she can." The room grew silent as one by one the Gamemakers began to notice the President standing as still as a statue in the doorway.
"Thank you, Mr. President. Can I help you?" Virgo asked politely, her eyes scanning the room for a face that was less shocked than her own. A visit from Snow was quite unusual this early in the Games. Did someone call him in?
"Carry on, Mercedes," Snow replied. "I am merely here to observe."
"Well," Virgo smiled, turning back to the map of the arena displayed on her desk. "Feel free to ask any questions that you might have." The silence in the room continued for a moment before the rest of the Gamemakers slowly resumed their tasks, unnerved by Snow's dominating presence.
"Please reconsider the songbirds," Orhior continued under his breath, hiding his request in the cacophony of sounds created by the various preparations going on in the room. "I've been talking about them since the reaping, and I'll be socially destroyed if they don't even make an appearance."
"I did not say that I was getting rid of them completely," Virgo answered, looking the man in the eyes. "I will consider using them at a later date, but not until you have the completed group delivery system on my desk, is that understood?" Orhior nodded, sagging into his chair with relief.
"The gates are waiting!" Lattice called from across the room, her long nails glittering as she fluttered her fingers in anticipation.
"Everyone listen," Virgo announced, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "The stage is set, and the gates are waiting to open." A cheer went up from the Gamemakers. "Paris, you said district five to the north, correct?" The man nodded. "Well, my fellow Gamemakers, let's show Panem what we can do."
The Mentors:
1: Gold Sparks, Velvet Blot
2: Cage Mane, Alice Quarry
3: Buzz Rorik, Margaret Plexigon
4: Bain Shores, Misty Lybrand
5: Norman Ray, Georgia Parks
6: Pilate Pierson, Sidney Wake
7: Maple Davis
8: Emilys Hatch
9: Anna Topekh
10: Cliff Wright, Ramona Fowler
11: Chaff Lerman, Seeder Pots
12: N/A
Bain Shores and Misty Lybrand sat in the tall, elegant bar stools set around the bar in the Victor's lounge, separated far enough away from the rest of the group that their whispered thoughts on the ongoing Games could not be heard. "That rules out Slater," Misty was saying. "If Athene wants him dead, and she's willing to expose her own weakness to do it, there's no way he can come out alive."
"I think you may be a little swept up in the craze," Bain chuckled. Cage Mane, Athene's mentor, had attended every party held for the Games since his tribute's score was announced, and hearing him talk about the vicious girl made one think she was an invincible goddess of war. The crowds were whipped into a frenzy, and all of the most experienced betters were getting ready for a district two win.
"Yes, maybe I am, but why shouldn't I?" Misty kept her eyes on one of the many monitors displayed in the large room, not taking her eyes off of the arena for a moment as she spoke to her fellow mentor. "She reminds me a lot of myself."
"Don't be ridiculous," Bain exhaled, filling his glass up with a clear, foaming liquid. "If she was anything like you Slater would be dead, Isis would be dead, Scarlette would be dead; most likely everyone would be dead. How long did your Games last again?" Misty smiled.
"Eight days."
"Eight days!" Bain exclaimed. "Athene is nothing like you." Misty muttered a weak complaint, but her grin gave away the pleasure she felt at the man's praise. The two were interrupted as a gasp went up from the group of mentors gathered around the enormous silver screen on the other side of the room.
"Mutts!" Ramona Fowler called, signaling every mentor to crowd around the rapidly moving images of the Games.
The Games
The slick, pale fur of the lithe felines reflected the moonlight perfectly as the group of cats crept across the forest floor as one, their target sleeping unsuspecting against the base of a tree. The girl stirred in her sleep, stopping all of the mutts in their tracks, but after only a moment of hesitation they continued their march across the sand.
The Mentors
"She had better wake up quick," Anna Topekh commented, directing the comment at the girl's mentor, Ramona. "They set the stealth cats on us in my own Games, and while they may have been engineered for stealth and silence, a group that big could still pose quite a problem."
"I remember that," Cliff Wright muttered, his eyes glued to the sight of the sleeping tribute in mortal peril. "I was only eight, but my family had a white cat that looked a lot like them. My dad had to kill it just to get me to stop crying."
"How many did they kill?" Ramona asked, tapping her fingers nervously against the edge of her seat as the cats crept closer to their soon-to-be victim.
"Two," Anna replied. "The first was a small girl who couldn't have saved herself from a bush, but the second was the boy from four. He almost got away, but there were so many of them." Ramona stood, slipping a small device out of her pocket, holding it to her ear, and stepping quickly away from the other mentors.
"Send it now," she snapped. "Now."
The Games
The memory from earlier that day registered as soon as the cats saw the small, blinking parachute appear in the sky and float toward the girl. The girl had been fixated on it, and it had quickly caught her attention. She was going to wake up. Yowling fiercely the cats lunged across the sand, their long, thin bodies extending fully as their strides brought them closer and closer to the girl. The parachute landed next to Bandit and she woke up. Only allowed a moment of confusion before the cats were on her. Screaming, the girl batted away the first cat with her arm, kicking wildly at the others as they tore and scratched at every piece of bare skin. Her hands finally landed on her bow and she used it to bring herself to her feet. Sweeping the weapon back and forth in quick, vicious arcs, Bandit cleared the mutts from around her, picked the parachute up off of the ground and ran. The cats pursued her, scratching at her heels as she was driven deeper and deeper into the island. Clambering up onto a rock that jutted up into the air, Bandit dropped her extra supplies and pulled back an arrow, shooting it into the pack of feral cats. The closely-knit group scattered as two of their own were pierced through their sides and left hissing in pain, stuck together by the arrow that would end their lives. Bandit took a deep breath as the cats slowed down, circling the island and watching her warily. She could do this. She just had to make every arrow count.
The Mentors
"Clever," Emilys commented upon Ramona's return. "She probably would have died if that parachute hadn't woken her." Ramona smiled wearily. "What was in the package?"
"She'll find out when she's finished off the cats," Cliff answered, cutting off Ramona's reply as the image changed from Bandit butchering her attackers to the careers standing in a circle around their campfire, their weapons at the ready.
"It's a good thing she roused them when she did," Margaret Plexigon said to the district one mentors, smiling proudly at Scarlette's quick decision to wake the other careers as soon as the gray birds had began to congregate on the beach in front of the cornucopia. "She has turned out to be a very valuable asset for the alliance." Gold Sparks twisted his face into a tight grin.
"Yes she has," he replied. Perhaps she was even too valuable. "However, anyone else would have done the same."
"Perhaps," Margaret grinned, reveling in the large man's discomfort. This was the first time that Gold had worked a tribute from district three into his precious alliance, and the old fool was obviously opposed to the idea.
The Games
"How many?" Athene called, her eyes scanning the flock of birds that now completely concealed the sand on the outer ring of the beach.
"A lot," Scarlette replied. "Probably around two hundred and counting." The careers all faced the enormous group of birds, the only exception being the girl from district twelve who sat huddled next to her medical supplies in the back of the cornucopia.
"What are they?" Isis asked, examining the fluttering birds for weaknesses.
Julianette Dior, "The 49th Hunger Games LIVE!"
"What are they, indeed?" Juliette Dior said, restating the girl's question to all the people of Panem. "The small birds most commonly known as Famine Birds were engineered during the Dark Days and were used not as weapons against the rebels themselves, but against their food supply instead. The small birds would be air dropped in large numbers into the territory where they would then consume everything in sight. The individual birds were easily exterminated, but due to their high reproduction rate they continued to plague the rebels far after the brunt of them were first introduced into the ecosystem. You at home may be thinking, 'Why didn't the rebels just eat the birds?' The answer is simple. A sac of acid is released in the birds' stomach as soon as brain activity ceases, and not only does it render the meat unappealing, it is also poisonous. The appearance of the Famine Birds is a very interesting obstacle for the alliance that won the cornucopia, as those tributes tend to rely on those supplies to keep them fed throughout the Games."
The Games
The birds attacked. In a flurry of wings and outstretched beaks the birds swarmed toward the cornucopia and the tributes standing at its mouth, the sheer mass of birds overwhelming the tributes despite their wild attempts to fend them off. With swords, maces, and axes swinging through the air, the birds were dropping by the dozens, their limp gray bodies falling to the sand and quickly being crushed by the boots of the tributes as they continued their deadly dance. "There are too many!" a voice cried out, its source unidentifiable in the chaos.
"They're taking the food!" another voice called. "They're not fighting back!"
The Mentors
Cage Mane growled in annoyance. "Famine Birds?!" he complained to Alice. "How did they allow those in the Games? All the tributes will starve to death!"
"They only behave like Famine Birds at night," Alice announced. "That's straight from the Gamemakers. Lattice said you could even eat them if you kill them during the day. Besides, look at them. They're beautiful." The feathers falling from the dying birds cast an ever-shifting, ever-changing shadow on the glittering white sand, and the visual image was nothing short of breathtaking. Mercedes Virgo would surely go down in history for this amazing spectacle.
The Games
When the birds were finally gone, the careers stood panting on an island blanketed in carcasses. "Is everyone okay?" Bliss asked, inspecting a few shallow scratches on his forearms. Everyone was fine.
"They were Famine Birds," Isis stated. "I should have recognized them sooner. Nobody eat them, there's acid in their bodies that makes them poisonous."
"All right," Athene barked, assuming command. "Isis, you and Serenity gather a few birds and harvest some poison for us. Everyone else start clearing these little beasts off of the island. I'm not wallowing in rotting bird brains for the rest of the Games." Slater began to protest, but was silenced as the rest of the group fell to their tasks immediately. Now was not the time for a confrontation.
The Mentors
"Which will it be," Cliff Wright asked the other anti-career mentors. "Birds or cats?" Anna watched their alliance thoughtfully. "I suppose they're close enough to the water that it could be snakes, but if I had to choose between the two I would say cats. They don't have enough food to begin with." Emilys nodded her head in agreement.
"Unless they have something previously unseen, though I highly doubt it," she said thoughtfully, "The wonder of this arena seems to be the dual nature of each mutt. Did anyone else see the footage of the Andronicus girl drowning?"
"I did." The group turned to see Maple Davis standing behind them, her arms wrapped tightly around her. "Something grabbed her; something that wasn't a snake."
The Games
Aden slid down the ladder, cursing under his breath when his hand caught a sliver of the rough wood. Searching the dark surroundings, Aden was confused. It was the right time, but his contact was nowhere to be seen. Where was she? "Hello?" a voice whispered. Whipping around, Aden saw someone raising slowly out of the water several paces behind the shelter.
"Is it you?" Aden asked, walking forward.
"Yes," the voice whispered. The water falling off of the figure's long, dripping hair created small ripples in the quiet lagoon, distorting the image of the stunning display of stars reflected in the pool for only a moment before the water's glassy surface was restored. "Come closer, I cannot leave the water."
Julianette Dior, "The 49th Hunger Games LIVE!"
Julianette's jaw dropped. "Ladies and gentleman, what you see at the edge of the lagoon is not a tribute. In fact, it is a mutt known as Shabriri, a truly ancient term used for water demons. Unlike the Famine Birds, Shabriri were designed specifically to kill rebels, and were often 'planted' in the rebels' water supplies in order to do so. Shabriri were developed when we realized that the rebels were slaughtering the weaponized mutts in droves, and never hesitated to do so. By giving the Shabriri the ability to imitate a human face and other qualities, we created the best of both worlds; a created beast that not only caused the hesitation of the rebels, but generated unrest between them. The perfect weapon."
The Games
"Why can't you leave the water?" Aden asked, inching closer to the water's edge.
"I can't see your face, come closer," the Shabriri whispered. Aden did as he was told, hesitating for a moment when his foot touched the water.
"You don't have any clothes on," he stated, his eyes glued on the girl's bare shoulders.
"Come into the water with me," the Shabriri smiled. "Have a little fun." Aden looked back at the shelter, where his team, Colleen included, was relying on him to keep watch. "She won't find out," the mutt continued. "She's asleep."
The Mentors
"What a horrible beast," Emilys murmured, preparing for the death of yet another tribute. After forty-four years of the Games, and eighty-eight tributes dying under her supervision, the woman had grown accustomed to this moment. Chillingly accustomed to it.
"I thought you had something going this year," Anna commented dryly. "I guess you'll just have to wait for next time."
"He's still got a chance," Maple said. "Look."
The Games
Aden took the Shabriri's graceful hand and stepped into the shallow water, shivers racing up his spine at her touch. "Wait," he said, inching away and ripping his eyes away from her. "Did you bring anything? We should get that out of the way first."
"I couldn't get anything," the Shabriri whispered, sliding farther out into the lagoon. "I just wanted to see you."
"I— the Shabriri lunged forward, a ferocious screech ripping from its mouth as its cold hands caught Aden's legs and dragged him into the water. Aden thrashed as hard as he could, breaking the creature's grip for just a moment before it latched back onto him and dragged him deeper. Bubbles of precious air burst from his throat as he gave in to the urge to scream for help, leaving him helpless as he choked on the salty water. Suddenly, a second pair of hands caught Aden's arms and hauled him forward, just far enough to bring his head above water. Choking out the water that had filled his lungs, Aden gasped for air as he was dragged onto the beach in quick, jerky movements. The Shabriri jumped out of the water, its odd, inhuman legs revealed as it pulled itself across the sand toward the boy. Jumping over Aden's exhausted frame, his rescuer kicked the creature toward the left and swung her hatchet from the right. The weapon connected with the side of the Shabriri's neck and stuck with a meaty smack.
"You are an idiot," Rhia exhaled, kicking the creature's corpse into the water. "Was that who I think it was?"
"It was supposed to look like her, yes," Aden said, deep coughs still racking his frame.
"You have a lot of explaining to do."
"Rhia?"
"What?"
"Thank you."
Mercedes Virgo, Gamemakers HQ, the Capitol
Virgo sat back in her chair, her hands finally leaving the command keys set in her desk. There it was, her night of mutts. She had planned this from day one, and it had been a success. Sure, nobody had died, but it was only the first night of the creatures. From now on they would be controlled by instinct alone, which could end up being more deadly than having them at her command.
Standing, Virgo rubbed the stiffness out of her arms. Casting her eyes around the room, Virgo tossed several of the small, purple pills into the back of her mouth, swallowing them dry. Her vision immediately sharpened, and the fatigue of running the arena faded away completely. "Crest!" she yelled, watching her assistant's progress as he slipped between the desks of the other Gamemakers toward her.
"Yes?" he asked, putting his pen to the notepad he held in his other arm.
"I've just received a message from a couple of the mentors concerning plans they have for their tributes," Virgo stated rapidly. "I need you to cancel all of the 'excitement' we had planned for tomorrow morning, though the… arrangements we have for the afternoon and evening will still continue. Also, I'm stepping out of the office for a moment, so I'll need you to stay here and record any complaints or issues brought up by the Gamemakers. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," Crest replied, grimacing at the thought of dealing with the diverse personalities represented in the room.
"Oh," Virgo said, remembering her last request as she walked toward the large doors leading out of the room. "And put some pressure on Orhior. I'm going to need those birds."
"Absolutely."
A/N
What does Virgo have planned for tomorrow? Don't worry, the next update should come very quickly. Thank you for your time!
-IVV
