A Vivid Note: We have finally reached the end of the night. The guests have gone home, the tables are being cleared, and our tributes eyelids are beginning to fall to the exhaustion. Which have won their sponsors, and which have lost all hope? I suppose that is for us all to ponder over.
Once again, I understand the desire to just leap forwards into the Games. But, as I promised, it is important to me to use each of these characters to the fullest. I hope you can continue to be patient with me as we wait out the final day... the interviews.
This chapter wasn't my best work (I think I was just eager to be done with the party) but it's done. Haa. Satisfaction.
Ah, and also- as I neglected to mention it last chapter- the Capitol Games has its own TV Tropes page. Unsure of what that is? Please, for the love of your soul, Google it. It's a beautiful, simple site, and it's incredibly addictive. It swallowed me up in less than half an hour.
Thank you to dearest Penelope Wendy Bing for creating a page for 'the Capitol Games'! It makes me wriggle excitedly in my seat to see so many tropes already piled under its name... and know that so many more will too.
Capitol Question #013; what is your opinion on the cast of 'Capitolites'? Do you have a favourite? A least favourite? (Eg. Idola, Timoleon, Iilvsea, the escorts, the stylists etc.)
Kiss-Kiss,
Vivid.
The Capitol Games
Brandit Gailer; 16 years; the Capitol Sector 6.
Staying up late wasn't ever something I did for fun. In fact, I'd usually be in bed by eleven at the latest, or else I wouldn't be able to wake up in time for my weights class. Without my sleep, I'd be easily angered and irrational- not to mention dizzy.
It's now almost one in the morning, and there's still more of this party to go. I don't want to talk to Sienna or Baby about turning in early- neither of them has paid any attention to me all night- but being on my feet for so many hours on end is steadily taking its toll on me. Even Natalia, who has always been more preoccupied with her own issues, is starting to show concern for me.
"Let's sit down, okay?" She pulls me over by the sleeve towards a seat. "We can wait out the rest of the party. I think we've talked to as many sponsors as we possibly can."
Shaking my head, I groan quietly. "No... look, I can sit down by myself... you go... go enjoy the rest of tonight."
An expression of complete disbelief hooks Natalia's eyebrows. "Do you honestly believe I could enjoy this thing? Please, I'm bored. And besides, after Wilder and Matthew's little display- I'm ready to call this whole thing quits."
Even though I know that Natalia's determination wouldn't take a hit from something like that so easily, I appreciate this gesture all the same. She's the first person in these Games to actually give half a damn about me. Though everyone else seems to be cautious of her, I don't see the same Natalia Marinos that they all do.
On the rooftop, I definitely had the impression that she was strong, and confident- but there's also that crack in the facade where she's like I am; terrified of what's going to come next.
Well, we're all terrified. I don't think anyone here is happy to be part of these Games... except perhaps the Gamemakers, escorts, stylists and the sponsors.
Although Sienna hates me beyond belief and openly wants me dead- I can tell she's not enjoying these Games. None of the mentors seem to be, except for the District 1 mentor Antony- who dances around the room dancing with the female tributes, laughing hysterically for no reason at all.
It's funny, the difference between the mentors. There are those who are clearly not right in the head, snarling and grinning with sadistic pleasure at the idea of slaughter- and others who are so soaked in corn booze that whatever kind of person they were before has long been drowned.
Closing my eyes tight, I make a wish. Please don't make me turn out like them, I think desperately. Please don't let these Games destroy who I am...
"...this sure sucks, doesn't it?"
"Huh? Oh," I turn and face Natalia sitting on the other end of the seat, staring up at the ceiling; deep in thought. "Yeah... yeah it really does."
Natalia smiles ruefully before closing her eyes. Whatever is going through her head must be personal, because she hasn't looked me in the eyes for a couple of minutes. I watch quietly as her hand dips in and out of her clutch, touching something inside and then quickly withdrawing again- sort of like she doesn't realise what she's doing.
...and the longer she does it, the more I want to know what her fingers are so desperate to be searching for.
"Natalia? Uh... what are you doing?"
My voice brings the girl estranged from reality whooshing back, and her blue eyes flutter a little in surprise as she pulls her hand so quickly away from her clutch that her elbow painfully collides into my ribs. With a sudden groan I double over, holding my side as Natalia realises what she's done and begins to stammer apologies.
"I'm sorry Brandit! I completely tuned out there- are you okay?"
Hearing her sound so frantic after all the bad things I've heard about her makes me chuckle through the pain. "Y-Yeah... I'm fine... just gave me a bit of a jolt there..."
"That's... still... I'm sorry..." Her shoulders sinking, Natalia stares at the ground beneath my feet. "...I've just been preoccupied... after all; I've been trying so hard but... I don't know if I've done any good..."
"O-Oh..." Trying to smile, I wince. My side still smarts from her impact. "So... what's in the bag...? Unless it's embarrassing..."
Her hand which grips the bag twinges a little, but not a second of hesitation passes as she pulls out the crinkled white handkerchief- pulling it taut across her hands. Though it's small and almost escapes my sight; the little speckles of blood are crisp enough to notice on the otherwise white cloth.
Briefly looking at me, Natalia turns back to her hands. "My Mom she... she grabbed my hand so hard when they called my name that she broke the skin..."
"...Ouch." I say, wincing that I can't come up with anything better. "That must've been hard to walk away from..."
"It was." She doesn't look up from the handkerchief. "I can still hear her screaming... 'She's my daughter'... it's like a nightmare... except it happened... and it's real."
In the silence she looks at me, and I stare back, trying to hide the immense guilt and shame I feel as I'm forced to think of my own family and their reactions.
I don't know what to say, but I do what most would and weakly rub Natalia's shoulder. Either she doesn't feel it or she chooses to ignore this because she doesn't even flinch or acknowledge that I've touched her.
There's nothing I can say that can take away that kind of pain. Hell, there's nothing anyone in this room can say aside from a Gamemaker cooing 'Alright, we'll let you go home.'
That's not about to happen. Not now after we've all come this far.
They're going to take us all the way to those little plates.
"Brandit... how did your family take you volunteering?"
Like a knife- her words slash apart the flesh what little peace I had left buried inside. Fighting hard against the thoughts that have pushed me to the brink of tears these past few days- the urge to start trembling and whisper the truth- I slowly open my mouth and let forth the lie.
"They understood... that it was something I had to do..."
My cheek aches as I see the tiny marks left on Natalia's wrists where her Mother had desperately clawed to keep her safe. Even as Natalia begins to speak of other things, the words just wash over me like empty foam.
...if Natalia won... her Mother would be there waiting with tear-stained face and open arms... but after betraying my friends... my family... if I somehow won...
...would anyone be waiting for me?
Galaxy Jones; 16 years; the Capitol Sector 7.
"Okay! I get it! I can't win this! If I'm going to die j-just kill me! JUST KILL ME!"
I want to scream it; to grab fate by the legs and beg for this all to end. Just kill me already world. Please don't make me be part of this show I used to enjoy. Please don't roll the cameras and force everyone in Panem watch as the girl named Galaxy burns out into a faded black hole of nothing.
All this party has done has certified that no one believes I can live. No one, not even me, has any hope of my surviving these Games. Not one man or woman showed even a feigned interest that I stood a chance.
Having a gun put to my head and the trigger pulled would've been less agonising that tonight. Even with all the drama inlaid into this party- with Sectors 2 and 8 girls singing songs of potential controversy, both tributes of Sector 10 being carted away along with a badly wounded man, and even my Sector partner and the Sector 6 girl being taken back to their rooms before midnight- none of that distracted me from the heart-wrenching truth.
I don't stand a chance.
Britney and I spent the evening, clad in the best our stylists could summon for us, watching almost wistfully after the other tributes. Britney, with her tan skin and blonde hair- was dressed in a deep pink coloured dress- while I was wrapped up in what looked like a green towel from the bust to my knees.
The Sector 7 stylists barely try. Ferroh would look ridiculous in that suit if he wasn't so naturally menacing. Although, I haven't seen him for most of this party- and there were words fluttering about that he turned in early.
That's the only good news I heard tonight, and I couldn't even enjoy it.
"Galaxy...? What did you want to talk about?"
In this despair inside my head, I'd completely forgotten that Britney and I had walked away from the party to talk freely. My eyes reopen to the empty corridor we had strolled into, and a low, hot breath escapes me as I realise how glad I am to finally be away from that god awful party room.
"...I just wanted to get away from there," I admit slowly, leaning against a wall and slowly sliding to the ground. "All I could think about is what's... what's coming next."
And it's still all I can think about, only out here I feel a little less suffocated.
A tiny, weak laugh escapes Britney. "It's hard not to think about it... especially since I never really thought about dying until those reapings..."
I'm in complete agreement with her there; I never honestly believed I'd die at age sixteen. There we so many things I had planned, my rocks and precious stones museum, my stargazing camping trip, finishing school, buying a house... getting married... having kids...
Now all I have is some dirty arena where all that awaits me is death.
And I don't even have a choice.
"...Britney... how do you... how do you think you're going to die?"
Within that tiny second, all of Britney's smile vanishes as I stare at her in waiting.
Her voice breaks a little as she looks back at me. "H-How do I... think it'll happen..?"
"Yeah." Strangely, I feel quite steady all of a sudden. "Do you think it'll be quick? Another tribute? Or a mutt? Or do you think it'll be something else... do you think you'll starve to death?"
"G-Galaxy-!" Britney suddenly looks desperate. "Let's not- I mean- you shouldn't think about that stuff right now!"
"Oh who are we kidding Britney, girls like us can't even get past the bloodbath..."
My chest feels tight. Without consciously realising it I begin to pull at my dress, desperately trying to tear it off with my hands in an attempt to breathe as everything begins to make sense in my head.
"L-Let's go back Galaxy," A hand takes mine, but I pull mine out of reach. "You're tired okay... everything will be okay in the morning-"
But I can't make sense of those words. The morning...? I only have two mornings left in my entire life... the world will only spin two more times for Galaxy Jones... two more... two more...
"...two more..."
Someone is pleading. Is it my subconscious, desperate for fate to reconsider this? I don't want to die after all... I want to live longer... burn brighter... why should I die at the hands of one of the others? I-It's not like they have the right to kill me... no one has the right to kill me... not Ferroh... not Natalia... not Britney...
No one but me has the right to kill me.
Suddenly my breath catches in my throat.
"That's it." I whisper, letting go of my dress. "That's it."
It was all so simple. Right from the start.
Once more, Britney takes form beside me. She's shaking with fear and panic- torn between me and running for help. But I don't care about that anymore.
I've been afraid all this time for no reason. Why was I so scared of being killed viciously by one of the other tributes? The fact I would die wasn't scaring me. It was the pain I didn't want to experience... the pain of giving up my life as a human super nova...
Gingerly stepping backwards, Britney watches me in fear. "Galaxy...?"
"Britney..." My body feels light. The words flow like a lucid script written for me so long ago I had forgotten. "...Britney... I don't have to be killed... I don't have to starve to death... I don't have to be hunted..."
The girl waits, both terrified and curious about my words. A smile I don't recognise breaks my fear and fills me with an indescribable pleasure as my epiphany unravels itself for me to fulfil.
"I can just kill myself."
With a squeak, Britney shakes her head furiously- her eyes wide with panic. "G-Galaxy, you're not thinking straight-! You can't-!"
But I am thinking straight. It is just her that doesn't understand.
"Yes I can." I'm positively breathless. I feel like floating. "Just step off the plate. All I have to do is step off the plate, and I can burst into that supernova... a human supernova..."
Horror spreads across Britney's body. Her arms go rigid and she reaches to grab me, but I pull away before she can, ready to discard the force that is holding me back from my universe.
"I was fooling myself when I asked you to be my ally Britney," I say, dazed. "I don't need allies. I don't need you. You'd only drag me down with your gravity."
"Galaxy!"
I'm done with this. No matter how much she cries, I know I've reached my fate.
"Goodbye Britney."
And without another word, I turn away from the Earth and towards the stairs, ready to face my final two mornings- and ready to ascend into the Heavens as the star I was always meant to be.
"GALAXY!"
Vinel Greggorus; 17 years; the Capitol Sector 4.
"Hey, I don't want to leave you here either Cotton-ball, but Juan says that the stylists need me to take this pre-soak thing to get the pink off by tomorrow... you understand don't you?"
No matter what I say, Cotton doesn't remove her face from the folds of my shirt. Instead she buries in deeper, her thin, fragile arms holding me as closely as possible. I can feel her inhale deeply, and mumble nonsensical words about it all being 'unfair'.
It's nothing she hasn't said yet tonight, but I still smile softly as she does. I guess if I didn't she'd accuse me of being heartless or not caring as much as she does.
Perhaps kissing her was a big mistake on my part. In the moment it seemed like the timing was right, but then again- I had completely forgotten about our circumstances. Pretty remarkable really, 'conveniently' having the fact we're going to be fighting for our lives in a little more than twenty-four hours slip my mind.
If only I could do it again. Maybe then I'd enjoy having a cute girl snuggling up against me. Sadly though, it's ingrained into my brain and there's no way of getting rid of it now.
Loud enough for just me to hear, Cotton moves her mouth away from the fabric. "...I don't wanna leave you yet..."
Her voice reveals a side of weakness I never saw before in her. It pulls at my heart as she looks up at me with her eyes sparkling with the beginnings of tears, and for the first time I recognise that her eyes are two very different colours. One brown, one blue.
I hadn't realised until now. I've unwittingly begun a relationship with a girl I barely know.
Gently, I place a hand upon her forehead, smiling as she continues to look dejected. "I don't either Cotton... but after tonight, all we'll have together will be the interviews."
That's right. Only the interviews left until this world crumbles away into the Games. Then I can't guarantee that Cotton and I will have any time together. After all, couples in the Hunger Games never share too many happy moments before one is slaughtered before the other.
But as nice as this is, I need to have this color bleached off me. If I don't, I'll be going into an arena with bright pink skin- and for camouflaging purposes that'd be a fatal move to make.
Plus I really hate looking like this stupid pink marshmallow.
"Um... m-maybe... if you... you wouldn't mind..."
Cotton's words stammer and stumble as she tries to overcome the alcohol fuelling her system. I wait patiently as her eyes shift in embarrassment around my chest and her hands tighten against the fabric of my suit.
"...I could... come to your room... tonight..."
Huh-!
As nature's urges make themselves known, I push Cotton away so she won't be alerted to them. In her drunken state, this only makes her look saddened- but I quickly hold her by the shoulders, staring at her with an intense seriousness.
"Are you... you know what that means right?"
With a shy nod that's so unlike the boisterous girl I've been getting to know over the past few days, I can feel my mouth grow wet with saliva and my fingers dig into her arms.
I'd be a complete liar if I said I didn't want this. No, a colossal liar. After all, it's been a while- and this could very well be the last chance I get to sleep with a girl.
-But something about this feels wrong, with her being drunk and vulnerable- and possibly not knowing exactly what she's offering while in this state...
"I-It's okay... it's not like... it's my first time..." Her eyes find mine, and she smiles in a jittery way. "I've had boyfriends before... I just... think it'd be nice if we... you know..."
Yeah, it'd be nice. It'd be very nice. Although something is still nagging me in my head, and for some reason I think of Minerva. Quickly enough I brush her out of my mind, but that doesn't change the fact that Cotton is pretty drunk and she'd be bound to make me pay for it tomorrow.
...although... if I did do this... maybe it wouldn't make her mad... it might just be what she wants... I mean, look at her- staring at me with those shy, embarrassed eyes. If this were a normal party I wouldn't even be thinking about this- we'd already be stripping off and in a flurry of bed sheets and limbs by now.
-But this isn't a normal party.
And tomorrow is a very important day, for both of us. Even if I'm not sure that I'm in love with this girl, that doesn't mean I should jeopardise both our chances at those interviews just so I can have sex tonight.
Although it's a risk I'd really like to take- since I don't think either of us is really caring about pregnancy right now- I know better than that.
I wasn't raised by two women just to end up not respecting them all.
Swallowing, I feel my brain aching as I shake my head. "Sorry Cotton... we... we really shouldn't. We've got a huge day tomorrow... and I don't think you're in the best frame of mind right now..."
She looks down, almost ashamed. Although I place my hand against her flushed cheek and smile in a feeble effort to soften this, Cotton looks like she's about to cry at any second now.
And as much as I shouldn't... I really have to go now.
"...I'll... I'll try and see you tomorrow before the interviews, or after, yeah?" I pull her into a hug and squeeze her reassuringly, but the girl doesn't hug me back. "I'm sorry Cotton... but... I'll try, yeah...?"
"...yeah..." Her voice is quiet, but stable. "That's okay Vinel... um... I hope the bleaching works..."
As my hands let go, almost immediately the warmth of Cotton vanishes from me. And as I turn to walk away and find my stylists and start the treatment, I catch Cotton's agonised expression in the corner of my eye.
...no matter what I do... I'm a bad person in all this... aren't I?
Britney Frailer; 15 years; the Capitol Sector 9.
My lungs are shrivelling up. I grip the stairwell's railing and fight hard to regain back my regular breathing, but each inhale is shorter and shallower than the last as tears invade my eyes and pour down my cheeks.
I'm all alone. The only ally I had has just thrown me aside in order to suicide leap off her plate- ultimately leaving me behind to be mercilessly killed in her wake.
What did I do to deserve this fate? Was it because of how I treated my little sisters, or because I had taken my life for granted so long? I wish I knew why. Perhaps then I could accept this rather than sob at the bottom of the stairs after a girl I had thought would be my friend in all this.
But I don't, and standing here struggling not to cry is all I can manage right now.
Going back to the party would be too painful at this stage. Most of the people were leaving when Galaxy and I snuck away to talk, so by now the place is probably empty. I'm going to get scolded by Frilli for leaving without asking. I don't think could deal with getting yelled at right now, not after losing my only hope in all this.
Shrinking down to my knees, I stare dejectedly at the first step that leads up to the second floor. If I were to take these stairs, I'd be right back on the same floor of the party hall. There are several twists and corridors, probably to dissuade the sponsors not to go wandering... as well as the tributes.
I guess it didn't really work, for me to be sitting here in tears, rather than up at that party. Maybe if I hadn't said yes to Galaxy's walk, she never would've... broken our alliance...
No. I shake my head of that frail thought. What's the point of thinking about what would've been? All that matters now is what is... and what is right now is me, all alone.
...what am I going to do?
"Do you have any idea what sort of paperwork is going to have to be filed because of this?"
Ah-! I jolt to attention, practically pinning myself to the stair as I hear the voices coming from the hallway outside. I can hear something dragging along the squeaky clean surface and a girl struggling to continue screaming. There's a snarky sort of sigh that follows and two separate male voices that chime-
"Ehh? Why should we worry about that? We only did what was necessary."
The first voice, deep and growling, answers. "Yeah, pulverising to the point of liquefying the girl was necessary. Why did you just shoot her in the head for Christ's sake-?"
A horrible squealing sound interrupts him, but someone curses- the girl yelps and resumes whimpering quietly. I can hear a girl laughing softly as the girl continues to cry.
"Is that what you'll be doing to this one then?" She pauses as the girl heaves again. "Oh come on sweetheart, if we did this to Sugar did you really think we'd let you get away any better off if you saw her?"
-W-What's going on out there? I steady my breathing and lift myself off the floor. My dress is dirtied with dirt and grime from the unused stairwell, but I don't care. What on Earth is happening out there...?
Slowly and steadily, as the group continues to talk- unaware of me listening- I ease myself over to the doorway and peer through the crack. Though it's a bit hard to see at first, my eyes focus and I begin to recognise the scene before me.
Three Gamemakers, including Iilvsea Crane and those twins of hers, are standing and talking to the largest Gamemaker- the one with ram horns. He holds a gold-coloured girl by the collar of her dress, who is weakly trying to squirm away from him. And- as I look closer- away from the bag one of the twins is dragging... a stained burlap sack...
...with... with hair sticking out... of the mouth of it...
I try and will myself not to be sick.
The Gamemakers are killing party guests?
"Iilvsea I know you're doing the job thoroughly, but don't go so blasted overboard-!" The large man quakes with fury. "The President only covers our asses if it's necessary-!"
Iilvsea holds her hands out and shakes her head, smiling. "Oh he'll cover our asses just fine, trust me. We'd really have to massacre the population before anything would happen."
"Well thanks to tonight, you've started on your way there," He growls, staring down at his captive. "I was hoping not to have to get my hands dirty again this soon."
...again? Did he just say again?
One of the twins leans in close to whisper something the girl, but she waves him away quickly. Instead she too focuses on the girl held firmly by the man- Aries, that's his name- who is looking up at them in pure horror.
"You did worse back in the day, I'm sure." Iilvsea's smile pulls across her face. "Now how should we get rid of you, our little vermin?"
The girl stiffens. Suddenly, her whimpering dies away as her hands ball into fists upon the carpet as she stares at the bloodied burlap sack.
"You... you call us vermin...?" Her face scrunches up in agony as Aries lifts her higher. "At... at least we have something we're willing to fight for! At least we have a shred of humanity left in us-!"
I watch in awe as the girl begins to shriek.
"YOU'RE THE VERMIN!" She spits desperately, thrashing about for Iilvsea's leg. "YOU CAN'T USE A PERSON'S LIFE AS A TOY YOU MONSTERS-!"
And in the flash of an eye, Iilvsea's smile splits clean across her face.
"REALLY?"
It happens so fast that the crack sounds before I even see the man throw his arm back. I stifle my scream with my fist as the girl's head smashes against the marble- splitting open and trailing down the wall as she falls to the floor with a lifeless flump. Aries clenches and unclenches his hand as Iilvsea begins to giggle uncontrollably.
"Idiot woman." She breathes heavily, placing a hand over her chest. "It always makes my heart beat fast when they get all riled up like that."
"Does paperwork make that heart of yours flutter then?" Aries growls while pulling the girl's body to her feet by her hair. "Because now we've got twice as much. Two corpses to account for in just one night. Fan-freaking-tastic."
The twins shrug just as Iilvsea had done earlier. "Just let the media deal with it. There's only one way that this would all get out otherwise."
Aries' lip pulls up in annoyance. "What? You think I'm going to go telling people about our slaughter of protestors?"
With a coy shake of their heads, the twins lean in close to Iilvsea and face her in my direction. As my eyes widen- I realise with absolute horror that all their eyes are suddenly focused directly on mine.
"Only if Miss Frailer over there decides to tell on us~!"
Marshall Matthews; 14 years; the Capitol Sector 2.
Somehow this place looks even bigger now that it's almost completely empty. With all those people in the way, everything had seemed cramped together for the sake of cocktail dresses and expensive suits. Perhaps if I was prone to claustrophobia tonight would've been a hell of a lot harder to struggle through.
After hours on my feet, 'exhausted' can no longer fully express how I feel. So I sit here with Diego- Sector 8 being the only other team not to have gone back to their floor yet- neither of us talking because of the weariness we're both feeling.
Poor Diego though, I'm not sure why or anything, but the sheer amount of men schmoozing up to him was jaw dropping. Does he give off some sort of homo vibe or something that I'm not picking up?
I'm confident that I pulled a fairly good haul of sponsors. Everyone seemed to think I was a charmer, and Mars even mentioned that I had hooked some old aristocrat who's somehow connected to the Vice President Mortar. That really blew me away.
In terms of sponsors, I'm floating on the top- especially since the performance with Kori from Sector 8.
I wonder if I thanked her for that. If I can remember correctly, she dove off that stage pretty quickly once we were done; I didn't exactly get a chance to. Although Kori claimed to have no experience singing, she was actually pretty good. Seeing that look on Natalia's face, and her new pet dog Brandit's- it was well worth all the trouble.
Even now she looks like someone has trod on her foot. Natalia is slumped over a nearby table; arms folded and her legs tucked under the tablecloth as she buries her face in her arms. Her lackeys have all been taken away and tucked into bed, so I guess she's feeling lonely with her crew to boost her up.
Seeing her like this only makes me smirk more into the back of my hand. It's always gratifying to see karma slowly take its vengeance on pretentious girls like Natalia Marinos. As the Games go on, I'm sure I'll be allowed to enjoy even more of these subtle moments... at a safe distance of course.
-Obviously she's going to try and kill me the first chance she gets.
Me on the other hand... well, I'd rather let her stew for a week before driving anything into that flat chest of hers...
"Diego? It's time for us to go home- ah... I mean... back to the rooms..."
When I look up, Kori looks both saddened and embarrassed by her minor slip up. Diego rises to his feet, offering me but a short nod as a goodbye. I raise two fingers and give him a curt salute- and then flash a quick grin of appreciation at Kori.
She doesn't smile, but she bows a little like a maid might at the end of a shift. A little taken aback, I watch in mild confusion as the two turn their backs on me and walk in silence towards their escort and mentor waiting by the entrance door for them.
Hm. It must be nice being Sector partners and not clawing at one another's throat at any given moment. Then again, I doubt either of them gave the other the death glare when they stood up on stage together at the reapings.
Out of all the Sectors, I think Sector 8 is definitely one of the friendliest I've met.
Although, my biggest rivalry seems to be between Natalia and I, so that might say something about which Sector is the least friendly.
Mine.
"How are you going kid?"
Although Mars' voice doesn't sound all that concerned, from the way his brows are knotted I can tell he is. I can't really explain it, but the two of us seem to be on the same wavelength as one another. That's why he seems to favour me, and why I like him so much.
"I'm going fine," I say dully, staring across the room where Kori and Diego disappeared. "Pretty tired though."
Mars smiles with a small sigh. "Not surprised at all. I'm a little relieved that I didn't have to go through all this when I was going into the Games."
"Oh?" That surprises me. Then again, I was only two when this guy won- so I don't know anything about his Games really. "But don't you have to go to a lot of parties since you're a victor and all?"
This causes the man to grimace a little. "Tch... yeah, okay- you got me. Luckily emphasis has slowly been drawn away from me over the years, what with people like Antony winning."
Antony is the mentor for Sector 1 if I can remember right. He won two years ago- and I remember how terrifying that man's smile was on the final day. He was drenched in blood as if it was sweat, with an animalistic grin that made even my Father pull back into the couch in fear.
It's not uncommon for victors to be terrifying- after all, they're murderers- but usually when they're out of the arena, and they go through the process of really 'winning', they revert back to a fairly normal state. But I saw Antony tonight, and the way he sauntered and swayed through the room was not of a sane man.
Nor was the way he looked at us tributes like we were meat.
"We'll be heading back to the room in a minute kid." The sound of Mars' voice brings me back. "I won't see you much tomorrow before the interviews, so is there anything you want to ask me while there's time?"
I wasn't expecting him to ask me that. What on Earth could I possibly need to know for tomorrow? Interviews shouldn't be anything too difficult if I survived tonight without so much as a problem... but the way the guy is looking at me it's obvious he doesn't want to walk away from here without giving it his all.
After all- my winning or losing will affect him too; as a mentor... and somewhat of a friend as well.
"Yeah Mars, I have one question for you."
He waits. As I unfold my arms, I feel that hint of a smile that's been dogging me all night finally fade away into a serious expression. Somehow knowing that Natalia can't be bothered listening; I don't worry about her petty judgement.
So I ask the one thing I've always wanted to know.
"What was it like... hearing the trumpets blare... realising that you won?"
And the one thing that only one of us tributes will experience.
The world of Mars and I goes quiet, and for a long time we sit as he fixates on a present located twelve years ago, finding the answer to a question he doesn't want to answer for someone as ignorant as me.
His mouth opens, and the words come out muttered.
"It was like nothing I'd ever felt before."
With eyebrows raised, I rest my head back upon the heel of my palm. "Really? I'd have thought you'd have said something more painful."
...Mars looks at me. Something deep inside my chest stirs from its sleep and begins to awake as the crowned victor of the 113th Games stares into the depths of me, dispelling all of my confidence with nothing but a brutal honesty that only he could understand.
"It's a pain reserved for only the real loser of the Hunger Games."
...
My hand drops to the table before I even realise that I've begun to tremble. Though his face is as steady as it has always been, I can see the makings of the torture going on behind his irises.
...and for the first time, all my dislike and rebelliousness fails me as I watch the light catch on the droplet that falls from Natalia's cheek and to the table.
There has never been a victor in these Games.
And this Game will be no different.
Vince Bryant Pace; 12 years; the Capitol Sector 11.
It's a relief for that party to be finally over. Never before has a night felt like it went for weeks rather than hours. Not even hearing Cotton return late to her room snivelling was enough to make up for it.
I should make a note not to attend too many of these when I'm part of the Victors' circle. It'd be much easier just to stick to a quiet life of fame as the lone Capitol victor.
Well, once I'm done with killing my Mother of course.
Once I reached my room it was all I could do to make it to the bed. Tonight has been a huge strain on my body and my mind- having to keep up this act for so long is a complete pain. I almost can't wait for the Games when I can drop it entirely and let the charade finally pass.
Being a liar in the Games never appealed to me anyway. However lying before the Games is something that everyone does, so it doesn't bother me at all.
Surprisingly enough, I have plenty of sponsors because of this defenceless child front I have going. Of course I only need them to consider me now- because when the later stages of the Games roll around they'll reconsider me again, delusional that inside I'm still that sweet, naive child they met tonight- burdened with the insanity of the Games.
Sponsors are delusional like that.
The biggest pain of tonight though was the time I had to spend with Liotta. With her looking like Lily as much as she does- it's doing things to my brain that would be fine had she looked like anyone else. The facade I have been playing so long with Lily just naturally comes back around Liotta.
This is why I spent most of the Gamemakers' speeches doing my best not to whirl around and do away with her right then and there- just to be rid of her. Luckily the Gamemakers' speeches were interesting enough to keep me entertained, but not enough for me to change my opinion of any of them.
At no point did I hold much respect for the Gamemakers. After all, they're only cowards who use a medley of machines and computer systems to kill off random tributes in order to keep the crowd pleased. After tonight however, my opinion of them has dropped into sub-zero respect.
Not one of them deserves to kill any of us, the pack of imbeciles. I have a sneaking suspicion the only reason that blue-haired girl is on the team is because she has the blood of Seneca Crane in her veins- and the rest of them; equally pathetic. I watched as the Crane girl had her tears wiped away by one of the twins- the other nowhere to be seen- as he whispered something quietly and she began to shake her head in desperation. Something in the performance had set her off.
Weak. I had bitten down hard on my tongue to keep from glaring too hard and alerting Liotta to my feelings. Imagine it; Gamemakers building friendships over their coward's excuse of a job. Ha.
...Unlike them, I have a purpose to slit these tributes throats. Their deaths will serve to further my vengeance- warning my Mother of what's to become of her once I come home, and avenging my Father's death at her hands.
She had no right to kill him, but by doing so she has given me the right to kill her.
And kill her I shall.
I can sort of imagine that my Father wouldn't be overly thrilled with the idea of me slaughtering my Mother- he was in love with her, despite her betrayal- but there's no way he could blame me for this hatred. It's only natural of course, to hate a murderer who spent so long denying who she was.
When I murder, everyone will know it was me. I won't shy away from my deserved title. Why not take pride in something you can do well after all?
Stretching leisurely on my bed, I try to imagine the look on her face when I first kill a tribute. Will it be of shock? Terror? Fear? Or perhaps she's already done away with herself in an attempt to avoid the justice I want to bring to her.
Certainly hope not.
It's getting late, and tomorrow is the last day I have to spend pretending like this. I decide it'd be best to fall asleep now to reach that day sooner- rather than lie awake musing over the pains of having to pretend tonight.
With the light off, my mind flares awake with the thoughts of the other tributes.
This is our second last night before the Games takes hold of each and every one of us. How many more of them are like me- eager and ready for their part in this Quell? Are there any? And of course, how many are terrified out of their wits... praying to a God who mustn't be listening to spare their tiny fragment in existence called a life.
An amusing thing to think about, but it doesn't really matter after all.
Wriggling into the covers, I pull it up past my chest and let my arms lie on top of the quilt top, staring up in the inky blackness where the ceiling must stare back at me- imagining what arena my true self will be unveiled in. Though I try to imagine it, all I can see is more of the same blackness, taking hold and enveloping tribute after tribute- seeking yet never finding me as I too push the others into its grip.
...she is snared by darkness' fingertips, and she cries for me to save her- holding out her hand for me to pull her to safety with me.
But I just stare back at her and feel a smile creep across my face as her arm is swallowed up by the death that I promised her.
Goodnight Mother. Wherever you are.
Capitol Question #013; what is your opinion on the cast of 'Capitolites'? Do you have a favourite? A least favourite? (Eg. Idola, Timoleon, Iilvsea, the escorts, the stylists etc.)