Private Sessions
Napoleon "Nate" Walter, 18
District Two Male
Napoleon had a lot going on for him.
He had these other Careers to watch out for, the Anti-Career alliance, and that girl… He had encountered her in the morning, and yet he kept thinking of her, replaying those moments in his mind again and again. There was something about her that attracted and pushed him away at the same time. The fierce look in her eyes, the fact that she had attacked him, and the strength of her body… It all looked Career material to Nate. He couldn't stop thinking about her for long, and it seemed as if his teammates had noticed this in his demeanour, for they questioned him about why he was smiling so lightly and discreetly, and to Nate's surprise, he had simply blushed. It wasn't because of any other reason than pure embarrassment, but his allies were reading a little extra into his actions, and then they were pestering him to know the secret, but he kept shaking his head like an old and wise man.
And it was now time to go for his Sessions. He shook hands with Nereus and Cruxia while Josephine nodded at him, and started walking towards the steel doors, his feet tapping loudly on the polished floor, creating a tapping sound so loud that Napoleon started walking in longer strides, for that sound was irritating in the silence that was prevailing. He walked in through the door and a narrow corridor, until he was standing in a magnificent large hall, with countless stations containing weapons surrounding him. There was a simulation chamber in the corner, rows and rows of weapons and dummies, resident trainers standing by the walls and an overhead balcony where the Gamemakers sat. it was the first time he was seeing them, and Nate couldn't tell initially which one of them was the Head Gamemaker. Not until she tilted her head at him, staring at him as if looking right into his soul, and despite himself Nate felt himself worrying, for nobody had ever looked at him as if they knew everything about him. That was the kind of look that he reserved for people.
He greeted the panel politely, bowing slightly, but they just kept on staring at him, critically analysing his every move, and Nate felt himself becoming self conscious. And yet he moved gracefully across the hall towards the simulation chamber, aware of the multiple pairs of eyes following his every move. One of the trainers started the simulation, and then Nate was transported in a world where nothing existed: not the weapons, not the gamemakers, not the trainers. Nothing except him and his environment, a dark cave where he could barely see anything. But if there was one sense of his that was at its peak, it was his listening, and he masterfully dodged the attack of a fellow faceless tribute. He couldn't see them, but he listened as their footsteps echoed in the dark, and jumped towards the right before turning around on his hands and kicking this person at the shins, standing up when he heard the satisfying thud.
And then he was running, running through the darkness, nothing to rely on except his senses. He heard a loud howl in the distance, a howl that raised the hair at the back of his neck, and he felt around for a place to hide. Nate was not someone who would hide, but he wasn't exactly a risk-taker either, and knowing that he was unarmed, he wasn't up for tackling a wolf mutt.
He did find an alcove and quickly got into it, breathing heavily as he listened, trying not to make a sound. He knew when the wolf was right under him, and he kept silent, not moving a muscle even though the howl from so close startled him. He kept low, his foot searching for an opening out of the alcove if there was one, and thankfully it was there. Slowly, he started crawling backwards, through the opening, hoping there was nothing else on the other side. He felt the ground end, and lowered one of his legs gingerly to find the ground, before landing down softly.
And now he ran, ran hard, blindly, his ears still alert. It was this cautiousness that told him of the stream, and he followed the sound. He fell just once, grazing his knee, but ignoring it altogether, until he was at the stream, the gurgling sound like magic to his ears, for he realised how thirsty he was. He didn't drink the water though, for he didn't know whether it was safe or not. He just grabbed around for something, anything that he could use as a weapon, and was honestly delighted to find that there was a complete weapon nearby after all, an axe too at that, a weapon he was most comfortable with.
The moment the axe was in his hands, all hell broke loose.
He could hear multiple footsteps approaching, footsteps that were hasty and aggressive, and Napoleon tightened his grip on the axe. He listened carefully, and felt the very air move close to him, and this alerted him regarding an attack, and he ducked quickly, rolling forward on the ground, and turning back to attack with the axe. With a sickening sound, he felt the axe going into the person's spine- and getting stuck there.
Any other person would panic in such a situation, but not Napoleon Walter. He held his ground as other tributes attacked him, taking advantage of the darkness, but they just couldn't touch him. He perfectly evaded all their attacks and landed a few kicks in too. At the same time, he tried to pull out the axe from the dead tribute's back but was unsuccessful, it was stuck a little too deep in the bone. Hence, when the next tribute attacked, he dodged the move and snapped his neck. He kicked the next tribute rather hard on the chest, before stomping it again and again until the cannon exploded. There was one more opponent left, and it was this opponent that hit him hard on the back, his breath exploding for he did not see them coming, literally and figuratively, and he was lying on his stomach. He felt another kick approaching but rolled out of the way, and the next time he simply grabbed their leg, twisted them around till they fell and then pinioned them down, choking them to death.
Nate was breathing heavily as he got off this person's back, unable to still see anything clearly. He had killed so many people...yes, he believed they were already dead, but Nate acknowledged that it was not easy, not easy at all…
When his surroundings merged from the endless darkness to the training chamber, he was momentarily startled and extremely groggy at the presence of light, shielding his eyes with his hands. Slowly, he dared to open them, and it took him a few moments to come out of the simulation chamber.
"Thank you for your session," the Head Gamemaker said, "Kindly leave for you room through the door to your right."
"Thank you everyone," Nate greeted, still feeling dishevelled at the sudden light after what felt like an eternity in that darkness but he knew better than to show it. He smiled at them and walked out, feeling good about his session.
However, a thought lingered on his mind long after. He had been disturbed to kill simulated humans; could he really bring himself to kill real ones as easily as he believed he could?
Nell "Tink" Tinker, 12
District Five Female
She tapped her foot on the floor, a nervous energy radiating from her, and she was aware that it was consuming others too. But Tink couldn't help it. No, she wasn't concerned about the private sessions or her performance there; she was concerned about the Games. Tink was not delusional, she knew that she was young, with much lesser strength and wisdom compared to her competitors, and that her chances were slim. She ran her hand through her short hair, eyes darting up and down the rows of tributes. Nereus had just gone in for his private session, and Tink could feel herself getting more and more agitated.
It confused her as to how, just beside her, Aron was sitting calmly, his eyes shut, arms crossed. He had given her a look when her foot bouncing had become really aggressive, but had refrained from commenting on it. Tink let out a sigh as she rubbed her palms together, mind wandering to an unknown arena, trying to imagine herself winning… but her mind went blank. There was nothing, absolutely nothing.
A firm hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up at her District Partner, Dekker Mattson. His face was grim, and he did not offer her a fake consolatory smile. Instead, he tightened his grip just a bit, and that was enough for Tink to remember to remain strong. She smiled at him for the gesture, knowing it wasn't much help, but also knowing that she had to remain tough.
She had not even realised when the time came for Dekker to leave.
She gave him a thumbs-up as he nodded at her, and then she was left all alone in this sea of tributes. She took in a deep breath through her nose, exhaling slowly through her mouth, trying to push away all the negative thoughts from her mind. She recalled her family and friends, the great time they had spent together, the laughs and the scoldings and the pranks and the fights and the tears, and it was due to these wonderful memories, these memories meant to be cherished life long, that she regained her strength. Private Sessions were important, getting a good score was important, and she had to do well here, she had to get in that mindset, despite how hard it was.
Her eyes were shut, but she felt someone settle next to her, on Dekker's seat. This person comfortingly put a hand on her shoulder, the touch much lighter and uncertain than Dekker's had been. Tink's eyes flew open at this unexpected touch, and she turned her head to face this new person. However, her jaw dropped on seeing this person, her eyes widened, and she recoiled in her seat, pushing away the hand, for the person sitting next to her was none other than Basileus Paladino, the resident gangster amongst the tributes, or that was what Tink thought of him. He was everywhere, stopping other children from training, intimidating them, and just being nasty in general. Sure, he had never bothered Tink, but she had seen enough of him to not want anything to do with him.
"Why're you here?" she demanded, "Get lost!"
She heard a rather audible gasp from Ark Zagog and murmurs from others, but she ignored them. Yeah, he was a Career and he was dangerous, but that did not mean Tink was going to tolerate his nonsense. She was here to survive as much as anyone else was, and she was smart enough to know that a bully like Basileus wouldn't spare her just because she was polite to him. The man in question looked visibly astounded at her reaction, and his brows furrowed as he eyed her.
"I just wanted to check on you," he replied, catching Tink off-guard. He was checking on her?
"And why would you do that?"
"You looked nervous and worried. I understand the private sessions can be scary. After all, those Gamemakers will be analysing your every move."
"I-I'm neither nervous nor worried!"
"You look like it."
"And why on earth does that matter to you?"
"You're a kid."
And that was all he said as he continued smiling at her. There was something about this that was making Tink awkward. She was quite awkward in general, but the way Basileus was showing concern was making things worse, because the truth was that she was being rude to him. He deserved it, she reasoned, for being a heartless bully, and thus she decided to do the one thing that would get him off her back; she ignored him.
Like a child angry at an adult for not buying her her favourite toy, she turned her head in the other direction, refusing to look at him, hoping he would take the cue and leave. However, this tactic, as it usually happened, failed spectacularly, for Basileus just laughed out at this, making Tink turn around to face him again.
"What?!" she asked, her voice angry, and her mind currently diverted from the dilemma that were the Games.
"You keep denying it but you are scared."
"So what if I am? Unlike some people here, I haven't been training all my life to chop down children."
And Tink was mildly satisfied as she saw that Basileus' smile had ceased a little, his brows were furrowed, and he just looked as awkward as she felt. He had been trying to act nice, but Tink could see it for what it was: an act. An act could never make a bully into a hero, and trying to be nice with little girls was just creepy.
"I've had my reasons," he replied, and Tink was surprised that he wasn't getting angry the way he had been all the time during training, "I understand that you don't like me, and it's okay. Sometimes, I don't like myself either. What is important is that we do well in these Sessions to boost our chances of winning. Just show them what you know confidently."
Tink wanted to reply to that, even though she did not know what exactly it would comprise of. However, she was saved the trouble of thinking up an answer due to her name being called. She hadn't even realised how quickly the time had passed, and she scrambled to her feet, heart pounding, and making her way towards the door to the chamber that would be a critical factor in deciding her fate. However, she did look back once, only once, and saw that Basiles Paladino was still there, smiling at her, and mouthed 'good luck'.
And despite herself, Tink smirked back at him, nodding at him, before walking in through the door.
Basileus Paladino, 18
District Eleven Male
Basil was relaxing on his couch, reflecting on the events of the day, particularly his interaction with the little girl from Five. She was a fiesty one, she certainly was, and he hoped she would do well. Basil yawned, leaning back on the couch. The day had been extremely tiring, and he had royally messed up his private sessions by fighting with the Gamemakers and cursing them, calling them names that no child should ever hear. Yes, it was a tiring day indeed and he wanted nothing more than to sleep in his bed. The next day was big, after all, in terms of everything it held. The interviews… he wondered how he would do. He certainly hoped it wouldn't be as bad as the private sessions. The thought made him sigh aloud, and he pushed the memory of the sessions from his mind, not wanting to be bothered about it at all. No, he thought about how he wanted his interview to go. He wanted to tell his siblings and friends that he loved them, and they need not worry. He wanted to tell Yang that he missed him every second, and wanted nothing more than to be back with him. He wanted to hug him and hold him tightly, for although Basil didn't admit it to anyone, he was feeling utterly alone.
He thought back on how Yang had hugged him the last time they had seen each other. With his parents dead, Basil didn't have anyone else who would provide a shoulder to lean on. His siblings were younger than him, mere children, and he didn't want to burden them with his emotional turmoil. He wanted to be with Yang, and he hoped that, after winning this Games the way his late father wanted him to, he would be back with his love, and that he would love him the way he had been all these years.
Basileus had allowed himself to smile as he recalled Yang Chan, but his smile was wiped off his face when she entered the room. He groaned in his heart, and basically kept his eyes shut just to block the face of this mean girl, and he tried to focus on anything, anything to avoid listening to her.
Usually, Belladonna Betony did not bother with him. It was her mere presence, her irritating voice, her glares that drove Basil up the wall, turning him mad. She was so petty, drowning in self pity and crying and complaining and cursing. And he couldn't forget how she had slapped him during the fashion parade. The slap echoed in his head to this day and he could not find what he had said wrong at all. He had been honest, that was it, honest to her face when she had started grumbling about her life. He was being honest with her when he said that she deserved it, that a person as petty and vile as her deserved to live alone and die alone, and that had earned him his slap.
He still believed quite firmly that it was ill placed.
Well, what could he expect from an ignorant little brat like her? In his heart, Basil knew that he would have been softer and more understanding towards just about anyone else, but there was just something about Belladonna that put him off, bringing out his worst self to the front. There was this neediness in her eyes, this clinginess, that he absolutely despised. And if she really was as alone as she claimed to be, Basil knew that nobody was going to miss her if she died in the Games, for if there was anyone who actually deserved a demise in the arena, it was her, for being a burden on mankind. And yet, Basil hated himself for thinking this way, quite aware that these thoughts weren't true and were only a result of all his frustration and anger at this girl, but he simply did not care.
They had not spoken a single word to each other since that day. Therefore, he was quite surprised and annoyed when she sat down next to hi wordlessly, and reached out for the television remote, her hand accidentally brushing his arm.
"What is it?" he asked, not in the mood to fight at all, but her very presence was making it hard for him to remain calm.
Thus, he was astounded at her rather matured reply- of giving no reply. She simply stared at the screen, flicking channel after channel, and Basileus believed she was looking for their scores. However, when she stopped at a weird singing competition show, which was at least three years old, Basileus couldn't help but scoff. Why did he even think she'd care enough to look for the scores? Sure, it wasn't time, but it was still a lot to expect from someone like Betony. Basil wanted to make a comment, a nasty one at that so that she would leave him alone, but found himself trying to be considerate instead, and so he kept shut, not saying a word to Belladonna Betony.
The girl on the show sang aloud, her melodious voice echoing ringing through the room they were in, and Basil felt himself relaxing, leaning back in his seat, one leg up on the couch. He heard munching beside him, and saw that it was Belladonna, munching on some potato chips that she seemed to have magically produced from nowhere, for Basil's eyes swept the area and found no trace of the packet. It was just the bowl in Bell's hands, and the chips in her mouth, the loud crunching sound annoying and fascinating him a little too much, and he realised that he was staring at her, staring at her as she ate, and he quickly turned away, hoping that she had not noticed, for what would she think?
And so, the two of them sat together in a semi-comfortable silence, watching the recording of a three year old show, enjoying the music as contestant after contestant sang with their souls. Not once did Belladonna offer Basil any chips, nor did she acknowledge his presence. Basileus, on his part, did the same, ignoring the presence of this beside him. He could already imagine Esther spotting them like this and losing her mind, for they had always fought in front of her.
No, Basileus still did not like her, but at least he had seen a side of her that wasn't as irritating as her usual self. And that was something.
Hello all. I've been meaning to get this chapter out for a while, but I've been really busy and sick. However, I felt that it has been too long since I updated, and I apologise if this chapter doesn't feel right. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. :) I've summarised the training scores as below:
Margaery: 9
Jupiter: 10
Josephine: 10
Napoleon: 11
Cat: 5
Rook: 7
Cruxia: 9
Nereus: 9
Nell: 5
Dekker: 7
Akira: 4
Aron: 6
Calista: 6
Ark: 4
Cupid: 7
Kespar: 6
Dakota: 7
Kai: 5
Avni: 7
Jet: 5
Belladonna: 4
Basileus: 12
Lyanna: 9
Cairn: 5
I know the scores are a bit on the higher end this time around but eh. Let me know if anyone's surprised you, I've tried to stick to what was on the forms this time around.
Alliances:
The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus
I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira
The Not So Smol Beans: Cupid, Calista
This is so Random: Cat, Nell, Jet
Anti-Careers: Josephine, Lyanna, Cairn, Avni, Rook
I Kind of Dislike You: Kespar, Dekker
Have a good day!
