Gamemakers

Clem hadn't slept since the eve of the interviews. It had been almost two full days since then, but he simply hadn't had the chance. He was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday, the letter written by the District Seven boy was still in his pocket, crumpled, but not forgotten.

"Dammit, Jordan." Clem whispered at the screen in front of him, cursing as the boy from Twelve consumed a berry he should have known to be poisonous. Too many had already died today, and the Bloodbath Clem had tried to avoid had become one of the worst in history. Three tributes died before the actual Games had begun, that was a record, and one was shot by the Capitol, an action that Clem had never allowed. He made a mental note to find out who had done that, without raising suspicions. "Fuck." Clem punched the desk, pushing himself backwards in the chair, uncharacteristically frustrated. The time he had been dreading was here. They were dying, he was watching their lives end, and every death that happened in these Games was his fault.

Not Jordan's though, Jordan's he could do something about. Clem closed down the tab on his computer that showed live footage of the Games and instead opened up the sponsorship page. It was strictly forbidden for anyone involved in the construction of the Games to sponsor a tribute. It showed favourites. That wasn't the case for Clem, he had no favourites, he wanted them all to survive. He took a deep breath, knowing that between helping Flynt and Doug and now Jordan, his time as Head Gamemaker was coming to an end. Clem closed his eyes, pressing the button to sponsor Jordan with a poison antidote, leaving no message or name, praying that it was enough to cover his back for just a little while longer.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SPONSORSHIP. IT HAS BEEN RECEIVED AND JORDAN THANKS YOU FOR YOUR KINDNESS.

The second the message appeared on the screen Clem allowed himself to smile. He had done it. Eight lives may have been lost today, but he had saved one, or at least he hoped he had. Jordan was the spark, the one person that had united the tributes at the very beginning if they had any hope of surviving these Games together, Jordan was the one they needed. Despite knowing he had done a good thing, a sense of dread washed over the Head Gamemaker as he closed the tab. He knew he was doing the right thing, but still he felt so bad. By saving that boy's life, he might have just condemned his own.

The knock on the door was so loud and sudden that Clem almost hadn't believed it was real. As he approached however, nerves beyond anything Clem had ever felt before washed over him. He knew it wasn't Mox, he had seen her leave just after the Bloodbath had ended, she had been awake longer than Clem and he had been the one to send her home.

"Sir, you need to come with us.." Two Peacekeepers stood in the door. What occurred to Clem as he looked at them, was that he wasn't surprised. He was resigned, he knew it was going to happen, in fact, he had expected it to occur long before now. All he could do was sigh and hang his head, shielding his face from the countless onlookers who watched as the man who used to control them all was handcuffed and dragged off to a cell, where Clem was sure he would spend the remainder of his days.

Hypatia

Hypatia watched on as the four tributes spoke. She doubted anything like this happened often in the Games: two opposing ally groups meeting and hugging instead of fighting. The chances of her being able to take down all of them were quite remote, yet still the woman debated it, the thought of getting her kill count to five on the first day was amazing, that had to be some sort of record. But no, the risk was too much. She could wait and pick them off one by one in the night, it was a safer bet, if she struck now and got injured, she would be out for the rest of the Games. What she needed was for them to separate. One of them she could easily take, and even a pair wouldn't be too difficult but four people, at least three of whom were armed, were beyond her skill. She would wait. Patience was a virtue after all.

She kept her full attention on them as the groups slowly separated, the girl's heading in the direction the boy's had just come. Now was her chance, she could jump out and attack Florence and Lya. sure they were armed, but their private scores were nowhere near her's, she had the skill to take them down.

That settled it. She would count to five, and then attack. Hypatia let the cold edge of the machete she nursed rested on the palm of her hand. This single moment would make or break her Games. If she won this fight, she would be the top dog, the one to fear, but if she lost, well… she supposed she would be dead, so that wouldn't be great…

As Hypatia's personal countdown reached one, she realised that she was much more nervous than she had previously thought. Killing Arbor in the Bloodbath hadn't exactly been much of a fight, it had almost been as if the boy had just given up and let her kill him. But this would be an actual battle, Hypatia's first one, what if this was the time she found out she didn't have what it took to win the Games? The sensible part of her brain was telling her to leave. It was late already and she had yet to find a camp for the night, there was no rush to get the killing done.
But they were here, right here in front of her, it would be so easy to just….

Hypatia sprinted from her cover, charging at the retreating girl's. First, she ploughed into Lya, slamming the girl to the floor and winding her instantly, the bow and arrows she had been carrying tossed across the floor out of reach.

"What the-" Florence's protests were cut short by a blow to the stomach from Hypatia. She doubled over but, much to Hypatia's dismay, held tightly onto her sword, slicing it as she fell, and slashing across the taller girl's arm, breaking the skin and leaving a trail of blood. Hypatia fought back, jabbing her machete at Florence, missing every time but causing her to roll backwards and hit her head on a rock.

"Shit." Hypatia gasped, stumbling backwards from shock, and clamping her hand over the wound. It wasn't deep, but she was losing blood quickly, she had to get this fight over quickly and deal with it. Dropping her machete, she retrieved Lya's bow, and pointed it at the original owner, levelling the arrow with Lya's head. Lya let out a small whimper, knowing that it was the end. Florence looked on in panic and dismay, still dazed from the blow to the head, unable to move and help.

Before Hypatia could fire, however, a man charged from the trees, slamming the but of his club into the back of the girl's head, causing her body to crumple to the floor. He looked at Florence and Lya, giving them a stern nod, before heading off in the direction he had come from.

Ronin and Ezra

The loss of Hypatia to their alliance had been almost fatal. Both Ronin and Ezra knew nothing about fighting, and the weapons they supported were utterly useless. They had needed Hypatia, not to kill for them, but to scare off any potential attackers. Now they were alone, wandering through the ever darkening woods, their already limited supplies becoming less and less. Eventually, as they reached the far side of the arena, just mere metres from the barrier, the pair were forced to stop and settle in for the night.

"She was so young. I shouldn't have let her die." Ronin blurted out, as they sat around a small fire they had reluctantly constructed to cook some raw fish that had been found in Ezra's pack. It was still relatively light, and the fire was small, only burning for a few minutes, so the pair had decided it would be safe. It was the first time they had stopped since the Bloodbath over five hours ago, constantly getting lost in the confusion of the forest, hiding from other tributes and trying to find a quiet place to stay. And as Ronin allowed himself to slowly relax, all he could think about was Vivian, how he could have done so much more to save her. She was supposed to have been his responsibility and he had failed her.

"I know, Ronin. But you can't feel guilty." Ezra handed his ally the last of the fish, leaning backwards on his hands. He had feared this would happen: Ronin getting lost in his thoughts and blaming himself. Vivian's death had been an accident, it was no one's fault, least of all Ronin's and the sooner the boy realised that, the easier his time in the Games would be. "I know it's stupid to say, but she really is in a better place now. She's away from all the suffering."

"Are you religious, Ezra?" He asked, turning to face the older male.

"I am."

"How can you be?" Ronin asked, not jeering or mocking, just curiously. "In this world? In a world where five year olds are blown up so someone out there," He pointed to the top of the barrier, waving his finger about. "Can have a laugh? Something to watch on an evening?" He was becoming angrier as he spoke, not at Ronin, but at everything, at the life he had that had been snatched away, at the future that awaited him that was inevitably short and filled with loss and death, at the fact he would neer see Vivian's smiling, innocent face again. "How can there be a God if this is allowed to happen."

"I have no answer for that." Ezra replied honestly, nodding his head. His faith had never been tested more than it was now. Not only did the Hunger Games exist, not only was he here, but he was forced to leave behind hundreds of patients that would die without him, leave behind a child and a pregnant wife, that relied on him for money. If God was real, surely he should have stopped that. Despite everything he smiled. He smiled because although all that had happened to him and countless others, he still believed, he believed in something higher, that watched over him even in these circumstances. "I guess, if you believe hard enough, nothing can destroy the faith. Oh wow, I sound like a crappy church poster." He joked, nudging Ronin.

"I'm going to try praying." Ronin concluded, clapping his hands together, looking at Ezra's face, illuminated by the dying embers of the fire. "Not for me, or you, or even for Vivian. But for humanity. That one day they will see what they have done, see how messed up this all is. And I pray that God will forgive them for letting this happen."

Nautilus, D'ante, Lana and Aila

"You killed her? Bloody hell, Nautilus, that's impressive." Lana knew she shouldn't be smiling as the other half of her alliance returned to camp. Aila and Nautilus had been off scouting the area when they came across Florence and Lya being attacked. For some reason they had intervened, and saved the girl's lives. Lana wasn't sure that was the entire point of the Hunger Games, but Aila was smiling wider than she ever had done before, and to see her girlfriend so happy, made it all worth it.

"No, she's not dead. At least I hope not…" Nautilus shook his head. A red hot rage had taken over him as he watched Hypatia beat Florence, and it was almost like his years of training suddenly came back to him, as if he was a clueless teenager again. In fact it was better than that. Nautilus had fought with a passion and energy he wasn't even sure he had when he was a child. "She was still moving when we ran off, so I think she was alive,"

"He was a machine." Aila spoke for the first time since they had returned to camp. They had set up on the edge of the forest, where it met the desert, sheltered by trees. It was the best they could do, they would hear if anyone approached through the trees, and see if anyone was crossing the barren desert towards them.

"We'll take the first watch." Lana motioned to D'ante. "You two have had a long day, get some sleep." Lana walked over and kissed the top of Aila's head. "I'm so glad you're alive." She whispered to the girl, her arm wrapped around her waist.

"No." Nautilus interjected almost instantly, catching D'ante's eye, receiving a nod from the man. "I've got too much adrenaline, there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep." He swung his club as if to emphasise it. "You girl's sleep. You'll need the energy for tomorrow, D'ante and I are expecting a world class breakfast." He pulled the girl's into a hug, D'ante soon joining the group. "Take care of yourselves. Get some rest."

"Thank you for not leaving us." D'ante spoke as the group separated. "You could have just abandoned us at the Bloodbath or even killed us. But you didn't. You would be so much stronger without us."

"Alright, old men. We're just going to bed, we'll see you in a few hours." Aila joked, kissing the men gently on the cheek. "Stay safe out there."

D'ante watched as the other half of their alliance retreated back towards the sleeping bags they had set up and sighed. He and Nautilus had a plan, and whilst he knew it was a plan that would break him, it was for the best. The two older men sat there in silence, watching the girl's sleep, until finally it was time. During their wait, Nautilus had been writing a message in the dirt with a stick.

"Thank you for everything, stay alive, D&N." D'ante whispered, a tear splashing from his eye and onto the ground as he swung the pack they had prepared over his shoulder, taking hold of a spear and handing Nautilus his club.

Nautilus clamped his hand over his friend's shoulder, attempting to comfort him. "You said it yourself, they're stronger without us."

"Would you do the same if Dory was still here?" D'ante snapped back. He hadn't meant to be harsh but the thought of going off alone scared him. They worked well as a team, the four of them, what if they were putting the girl's in more danger by leaving him? He knew deep down though that they weren't, and staying here was selfish. Aila especially would be more concerned with saving their lives than protecting her own. This was the fairest way to do it. "Sorry. I didn't mean it, I'm just stressed." D'ante muttered, shaking his head.

Nautilus gulped, attempting to get rid of the lump that had appeared in his throat. He hadn't allowed himself to think about Dory, he had been holding on to the fact that she was still alive out there. They had been forced to leave to Cornucopia without her, but none of them had seen her body. But then, just a few hours ago, her face had appeared in the sky, and Nautilus had to do all he could to not break down. "Come on, let's go."

He gave one last look at the girl's before picking up a stone and throwing it at Lana, watching the girl's body stir and begin to wake. Leaving them awake with no guards would have been unfair. As Lana sat up, Nautilus and D'ante darted from the trees that provided them cover and set off across the warm desert, into the darkness.

So there we go.. the plot thickens... is Jordan actually dead? Has Clem just lost his job and maybe soon his life? Will Nautilus and D'ante survive without the girls? Will Ronin save humanity with his prayers?

I've been planning the rest of the SYOT out for months now, and I've decided on the last ten tributes, but I still haven't picked a winner. I have ten different plan, each where a different tribute wins, this is so much harder than I thought it would be, I want them all to survive ahhhh!

Okay, that's all for now, thank you for all the love and I hope the week has treated you well.

Until next time,

Alice xxx