Ok, I'm just going to publish this, even though it's kind of short. It's spring, I'm outside ALOT, because it's not cold any more, and these thoughts for this chapter just came together. Apparently I need to spend a few more hours outside for the next chapter ;-0
Raquel bit her lips, running her fingers through her cropped hair. Time to relax, let Snider handle the night shift. The glass doors opened, and she stepped outside the mentor's lounge, eager to head up the elevators to her own compartment.
She could let herself forget about Maureen, just pour herself into her reading. A faint smile shadowed her face as her thoughts wondered to the batch of comic books her last Capitol "friend" had given her. It amazed her, this world of super heroes, of villains that everyone hated. If only these Capitol people hated Snow as much as they did the Joker. Not that there were any real heroes around here to save the day.
She wrinkled her nose, as a wave of nausea filled her. Was that perfume she smelled? The elevators swung open, and Raquel sucked in a sharp breath. "What are you doing here?"
The reporters crammed their mics into her face, "Did you know your tribute was so aggressive? Did it take you by surprise?"
Her hands clamped around the elevator doors, "I am not talking to you people." She jammed the button, allowing the doors to close out the reporters in the twelfth floor hall.
She wanted to hit her head on the mirrored wall, how was she supposed to go relax now?
The door swung open again, on the ground floor. An even larger contingent of reported pressed towards her. Raquel's fists clenched, especially when three of the freaks pushed themselves into the elevator. The stench of vanilla and fruity cocktail perfume was overpowering.
"What kind of assurance concerning Maureen can you give your sponsors?" Raquel squinted, feeling the heat of the false camera lights.
"Why aren't' you talking to Snider?"
The words jumped at her, "You're the only female victor for District 12, so you always mentor the female tributes."
Raquel's eyebrows furrowed. Only one year she hadn't mentored the girl. She just couldn't. Not when the girl, the girl, the girl. The words spun in her head, and pulled on her ear lobe, forcing herself not to think of the girl. The memory she had refused to even dream of for the past thirteen years.
She felt the presence of cold metal, "You must be so happy that your tribute successfully killed the male from eight."
Happy? When was the last time she had been happy. She felt her neck growing hot, her heart beating fast, and she swung her hand out, grabbing the mic from the startled reporter.
"You think I'm happy," Her screeches caused several Avoxes to drop the dished they were carrying. She swung the mic around, hitting it on a camera, "Do I look happy to you," She clenched the mic in her hands, breaking it in two pieces.
The bodies that had been so close to her backed up, and she growled at them. "You have another question, another mic for me?"
A voice interrupted the tirade, "Hey people just get out of her way!" Annora pushed throught the crowd, "Come on it's after midnight, some of snap when we're this tired." She reached Raquel. Sweeping the reporters out with a push from her hands. "Come talk to Snider tomorrow. After the sun's come up."
She guided Raquel back into the elevator, pressing the button for four. "In case was wondering if you've lost your edge, you just proved them wrong." She folder her arms, giving her a cocky grin. "How many times have we told them to talk to Snider and not you?"
Raquel just rolled her eyes, to tired to think of an answer. The elevator pinged, and she waited for Annora to get off.
"Come on," Annora laid a hand on her back.
"This isn't my floor, I'm not staying here."
"Listen," Annora pushed her out, "There's still people up on your level. They'll eat you alive after that performance downstairs. You can sleep in my room, door on the right."
Snider scowled, "How'd you know they were up there?"
"Atlanta phoned the lounge, she was concerned for you."
"Atlanta?" Raquel searched Annora's face, looking for her to laugh off the suggestion that the escort could have been concerned for her. Escorts were machines, to dolled up to even care they were leading kids to their deaths. At least that's all Raquel ever saw of them.
Annora sighed, seeing how Raquel was staring at her, "You've never had a really good escort. Not one like," her voice dropped, the words hardly understandable.
"What?" Raquel glared, "Name one good escort out there."
Annora looked at her, gauging her reaction, "No, it's just something Snider and I talk about, no big deal. Go on to bed." She picked up the remote, flipping on the TV. Raquel's face appeared on the screen, her eyes narrowed, her mouth nearly foaming. It was enough. Raquel stormed out, not wanting to see the Capitol blabber about her behavior.
Annora watched her go, feeling a sense of relief. Raquel was too pesky, Snider said you could never tell her anything. And Annora had nearly mentioned Trinket. The escort who was supposed to be forgotten.
Pixelle heard the waves, and she rolled over, nudging Philadelphia. "Hey the water's high enough now."
He rubbed his eyes, suppressing a yawn, "Yep, sure enough. Here, you get out the iodine, while I fill up the bottles."
Pixelle rummaged in the backpack as he knelt down, unscrewing the lid to fill the bottle. He jumped back as the water stung him. The bottle fell from his hand, the plastic melting as it sank into the water.
"Pix, it's acidic. Don't go near it." He grabbed up their stuff. "We need to get away from it. No telling how high the tide will come."
Pixelle stared at the lapping waves, "What did it do? It looks safe."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, "It melted the bottle, now come on, lets go."
He hoisted the pack on his back, taking her hand as he led her away. Her fingers trembled, and he heard her sniffle. After a few minutes, he stopped, kneeling to look her in the eyes. "What's wrong? We have food, and we're fine."
She shook her head, her hair brushing her shoulders, "It's just too complicated. It keeps changing. One minute it's safe and the next, why do they make it so hard?" Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she pressed her face into Philadelphia's chest, finding comfort that at least he hadn't changed.
"I know," his hand brushed through her hair. "But we'll figure it out. Together we'll make it."
She rubbed at her eyes, her words too jumbled for him to catch what she was saying. He looked over her head, alarmed that the water was rising.
He picked her up, "We've got to go quick, I'm afraid maybe even back to the mountain. The Gamemakers have something planned."
BTW, I am planning a sequel. (Sort of, details later) Some of you mentioned in your tribute form friends of the current tributes who were planning on volunteering, so you guys have first dibs on those spots for the next edition, Just thought I'd let you know ahead of time.
Anyway,
Q 1) Who are you dying to hear about
Q 2) Will Pix and Delphi get caught in the acidic tide?
Q 3) How can I improve the story?
