CHAPTER XXVI. TRAINING DAY III
"Truth never damages a cause that is just."
-Mahatma Ghandi
CLEMENSIA DOVECOTE (33) - CO-HEAD GAMEMAKER
"What? Does that feel good?" Clemensia ran her hand down her wife's shirt, tickling her clavicles.
"It's fine love," Lysistrata let out a deep sigh as the tension in her muscles loosened, letting out quips of laughter, "I'm just frustrated."
"Why?" Clemensia asked the question despite knowing the answer. The Games were in two days, and both of them were nervous out of their minds, a feeling only hardened by Coriolanus Snow, their former friend and current president barging into their office, an obnoxious but familiar ordeal.
"Coryo," Lys said his nickname with a bit of a smile. They'd never dare to use it in front of him, he hated it, but CoRiOLaNuS was stupidly long and didn't sit in the mouth all that well.
He had demanded to see the mutts they had been working on when he barged in, and now it was time for them to show him. The Games were what, two days away now? Yeah, two.
"He's been a bit insufferable lately," Clemensia admitted, playing with the strands of Lysistrata's hair that had fallen down the back of her shirt, "I miss when he was us."
She was referring to just a few months ago when Coryo was Head Gamemaker, and they were his assistants. He worked closer to them then, yet he was so much more… mellow.
"I like being sort of in charge with you, honey," Lysistrata flashed a cheesy smile, tilting her head back, "It's empowering."
"Oh, you find me empowering?" Clemensia let her fingers dance atop her wife's forehead
Lysistrata grabbed Clemensia's hand from behind and twisted herself over in her seat, "I do."
"Say I do again," Clemensia kissed her hand, reminiscing on their wedding when everything was more simple.
"I do," As those words left Lys' mouth, Clemensia began to reminisce in sweet thoughts about their wedding day, the best day of her whole life. They opted for a fairly simple ceremony, just close friends and family, and even though the decorations looked like they came from 12 compared to the extravagance of Coriolanus and Livia's wedding, their love was brighter than all the expensive lights they didn't care to buy.
Lysistrata grabbed Clemensia's wrist then propped herself up on the couch, giving her a light peck on the lips.
"I miss when we had time to do this," She said with a short breath.
"Who's to say we don't?" Clemensia swooped her hand around her wife's back and placed her palm on the back of her head, gently digging her fingers into Lysistrata's hair.
"The Games being in two days says we d–" Lys' sudden burst of pragmatism was cut off by Clemensia placing her lips on hers, "Yes, please."
Clemensia took her wife's verbal cue and ran with it, pinning her fragile hands behind her back and slowly blowing into her mouth, "I love yous" woven in between kisses.
The footsteps coming towards them didn't mean anything. They were kissing, just like when they were younger, and lord did Clemensia wish they were younger. Why did nobody remind her how lovely it was to just do nothing and everything at the same time? To kiss the girl of her dreams till she was breathless. To kiss her wife. Her fucking gorgeous, artistically brilliant, oh so intelligent wife.
"I love you too, by the way," Lysistrata tore her mouth away from Clemensia's, "I didn't tell you, just then."
"I know you do," Clemensia laughed, playing with Lys' fingers, "Now, shut up and kiss me."
"I don't want to kiss you," Lysistrata smiled, looking like she was up to no good.
"What do you want to do then?" For once, Clemensia decided to be oblivious to her wife's teasing.
"I want to, more than kiss you," Ah yes, there it was, "I know we're in the yard, but I don't care."
"You miss doing this that much, huh?" Clemensia started to unbutton her shirt, "This is so utterly unprofessional of you ma'am."
She didn't really care. It was hot as hell, though anything was when it involved Lysistrata.
"I don't care," Lysistrata refuted, helping Clemensia with the buttons. Why did shirts always have so many buttons? "I miss doing this."
It hadn't even been that long since the two last made love. Maybe two weeks, but that was long enough for her to miss it.
"Girls," They stopped what they were doing, hearing a loud knock at the door of the Mutt Yard, which wasn't a yard since it was inside, "I'm ready to see the mutt."
Shit. Clemensia quickly buttoned her shirt back up and walked over to the door, opening it to reveal Coryo in one of his suits that looked the same, "Good morning, mister President."
It was fairly early in the morning, but they needed to have their meeting then since the girls would be busy later running private sessions during the third day of training.
"I'm ready," He wasn't wasting any time today, clearly because he needed to do something that he decided was more important than the meeting he requested himself.
Lysistrata sighed then took out the remote control that led to wear their first mutt was hidden.
"Meet Brent," She pressed a button then watched in awe as a gate lifted to reveal a giant man covered in hair and having two giant horns, "He's our minotaur."
"Excellent," Coriolanus clasped his hands together, "I like where this is going."
CAMBER YAW (15) - DISTRICT 6 AGENDER TRIBUTE
Camber was both delighted and surprised that he had somehow ended up as the parental figure in an alliance of two 17-year-olds. He met them on the second day of training, Clancy and Ares, both from District 5, when he was drawn to their loud verbal argument on photosynthesis.
"You're such an idiot," He remembered the girl Ares yelling, "Obviously light reactions come first."
"Why does it fucking matter?" Clancy had remarked.
"It doesn't," Ares threw her hands up in the air, "I just want to be right."
Camber remembered intruding on the conversation, reciting the information he had been taught in school.
"Actually, she's right," He swallowed his saliva before going to talk to the big kids, "At school, I learned that light reactions are the first phase of photosynthesis, and it's immediately followed by Calvin's Cycle, which doesn't require exposure to the sun."
"I told you so!" Ares instantly yelled, without missing a beat.
Ever since that moment, Camber had been attached at the hip with Ares and Clancy. They were always arguing over things that were honestly irrelevant, and Camber was always there to fact-check them. At times, he felt sort of like a third wheel to them, but for the most part, he fit right in, well the best he could considering they had known each other for quite some time before the Games, and he was the new kid.
"What do you two think we should do to start today?" Camber asked his allies on the start of the third day of training. The third day was especially stressful since people were being pulled out in District Order for their private evaluations with the Gamemakers while the rest of training was going on. Camber was extremely nervous, not really knowing what he was going to showcase for them, but he was hopeful Clancy and Ares would have some ideas.
"We should probably get to weapons at some point," Clancy laughed, pulling his longish curly hair into a bun. They hadn't done anything with weapons the past day, though Clancy and Ares did on day one, so it seemed to be a good suggestion.
"What do you suggest, then?" Ares sounded surprisingly diplomatic. Camber noticed they'd been getting along better and better the more time progressed, "I personally think it would be fairly stupid of us to learn anything that isn't close range."
Ares made a good, valid point. Camber had tried his hand at the bow and arrow, as well as the spear during day one, and it didn't really work out well.
"Agreed," He remarked, eyeing the different weapons located around the room, "Do you think maybe we could try to learn to use a dagger?"
"Dagger?" Clancy seemed offended at the very suggestion, "That's so boring."
"What do you mean?" Ares was once again, frustrated with the boy.
"So many people use a dagger here," Clancy laughed, "We need to be more original!"
"Well what do you suggest then, Mr. Smarty Pants," Ares teased.
"Swords!"
Clancy did make a good point in that daggers were the most common weapons for newcomers such as their group, but Camber agreed, the Gamemakers would get so bored if they saw people using daggers over and over again during private sessions.
"Well swords are definitely cool," Camber rejoined the conversation, "But all of our sessions are in a row, and it would be unwise for us to only do swords. Besides, what's the chance that sword is the weapon we're able to find in the arena."
Camber was somewhat doubtful they would be able to find any weapon during the bloodbath, and it was statistically improbable that whatever random weapon they stumbled upon would be a sword.
"Well what other close range weapons do they have here then?" Clancy asked, "I know there's the sword and the dagger, but what else?"
"I could try my hand at an axe," Ares said eager to get started, "And you two can argue over who gets the sword and who gets the dagger."
"I call sword!" Camber exclaimed
'What?" Clancy retorted, "No, I want it."
"He called it," Ares laughed, "Now go get to work with that dagger you hated so much."
Camber bid adieu to his allies then went to work with one of the swords that was hanging from the walls. It was… really heavy, but Camber was determined to make it work.
"Shit," He mumbled to himself as he accidentally dropped the sword to the ground.
It was hard work, all the training, and it exhausted Camber to no end, especially when he could barely lift the weapon he was swinging around all over the place. The whole experience was exhausting too though. He hated it, he decided. He knew there was absolutely no reason for him to be there and while yeah the allies he made were nice, he could have easily gone without knowing them. He didn't understand why everyone was always speaking about how they loved their allies, since Camber just sort of tolerated them, and he wouldn't really mind it if he had to kill them.
ETTA WISEMAN (15) - DISTRICT 12 FEMALE
Etta was absolutely enamoured by the wide variety of books that she could read at the Training Center. Overwhelmed may even be the right word for it, since Etta honestly had no idea where to start, and three days in, she was still lost as a puppy. She spent the first day in the corner reading a book about hiding, and how to be subtle when doing so, and while non-fiction was far from her favorite genre, it was still better than not reading at all. She learned loads about hiding too, such as that it was probably the easiest skill anybody could know, and that she could do it anywhere. She looked forward to hiding in the arena for sure.
The second day, Etta learned about using a knife to extract bacteria from wounds. That book was way better written than the book about hiding, but she was scared to practice using the knife herself. The weapons stations were always extremely crowded, and Etta didn't want to be a bother to people who were using the stations, since they were all bigger and scarier than her, but on the third day, all the scarier kids were preoccupied with their private sessions, so Etta decided it was finally time for her to use the weapon she had been reading all about.
"Hey, can I please borrow that?" Etta approached a dark-skinned boy who was rapidly hurling knives at the wall.
"Why do you think you can?" The boy scoffed, somewhat rudely.
"Be nice, be nice," Suddenly Etta's District Partner Morgan appeared from behind the boy, "That's Etta!"
"The one who you said was annoying?" The boy looked at Morgan.
Was Etta annoying? Yeah yeah, she'd been somewhat pushy to Morgan on the first day because she wanted him to be his ally, but she gave up on that at the party when she saw he had made his own allies. Besides, Etta didn't need anybody but herself if she wanted to succeed.
"Me? Annoying?" Etta was completely dumbfounded that Morgan, who had been unreasonably cheery as of late could call her annoying.
"Yeah, my buddy Morgan said you're annoying," The other boy said as Morgan was gesturing for him to stop, "What? Do you think she's going to kill us or something."
"Well, not really," Morgan admitted which was somewhat rude. Etta was very capable of murder if she wanted to be, she just was trying to avoid killing people.
"I just want to practice with the knife," Etta persisted.
"There's many other knives you can use," Morgan's ally pointed out, "There's no reason you have to use mine."
Etta looked around at the wall and well, he was right. There were probably a hundred knives on display that weren't being used, Etta was just stupid and didn't see them. She went to the wall and grabbed a somewhat short knife and headed to one of the dummies that was just sort of laying there.
Etta had read in the book that it was best to be sort of gentle with a knife, especially when using it for bloodletting to cure diseases, but she was frail enough that it was hard for her to be anything but gentle with it. She could barely tear the rubbed flesh of the dummy which was wildly disappointing and even frustrating. It took about half an hour, but eventually Etta realized that there was no use in her trying to use the knife to do some fancy medicinal procedures, and instead she should use it for what it was meant to be used for, killing.
Etta rose above the dummy and began to straddle it, getting a wicked look in her eyes as she pinned it to the ground… 1 2 3, 1 2 3… she began to pierce it with the knife. 1 2 3, 1 2 3… 1 2 3, 1 2 3… it was oddly relaxing seeing the styrofoam inside of the dummy tear.
She was somewhat suspect she looked foolish as she 1 2 3, 1 2 3… tore up the dummy but she no longer cared. Etta no longer felt the need to care. This was her competition and she was going to do it whatever way she wanted to, even if that meant getting messy with it. Etta was so over the Capitol and its nonsensical ways, and she was prepared to be her own person.
PITH PLASTID (15) - DISTRICT 11 MALE
When Pith was Reaped, he said to himself that he didn't want any allies, and as the days went by, he began to regret that idea more and more. He was far too afraid to talk to the other kids, and it was proving to be detrimental to his health.
Pith was so miserable.
On the first day of training, he decided to approach the boy from 9, being somewhat impressed by his muscular arms and radiant smile, but he was far too afraid to actually say much besides small talk, so he wasn't too surprised when the boy never invited him to join his alliance. Pith thought maybe he'd be able to fit in. He was with the boys from District 3 and District 8, and they all seemed like the sort of fun loving guys that Pith would enjoy befriending, but he didn't put in nearly as much effort as he should have in trying to befriend them. At the party, Pith offered the boy from 9 fashion advice, but he didn't really seem to say much about it, even though he did end up taking it.
The boy's name was Alarico.
Pith learned that somewhere along the lines of the second afternoon of training when he heard him talking with his allies.
"Alarico, lift me," Pith remembered the voice of the boy from 8 singing as Alarico lifted him up on his taut shoulders. He couldn't help but wish he was the boy from 8, even though it was a somewhat stupid thought, since he was too heavy to carry surely. Alarico didn't have any business with somebody like Pith. Pith was overweight enough that it was visible, and he knew that wasn't what people liked.
Why did Pith care what people thought or if they liked him? All his life, Pith's mother told him that he'd one day marry a girl, but seeing Alarico made Pith no longer want to marry a girl. He'd liked girls so much in the past, holding hands with and kissing them on the playground when he was younger, but Alarico made him no longer want to have anything to do with girls.
On the second night, Pith was alone in his hotel room. He had considered "wandering" up to the roof where he saw Alarico and his gang go off, but he didn't want to intrude on whatever it was that they had going on, as it was too late for them to meet and get acquainted with a new person, which was Pith.
On the third day, Pith couldn't help but stare. Physically, he was lifting weights, something he was shockingly good at, but in his mind, all he could imagine was Alarico as he threw the spear about and joked with his allies and laughed his incredibly infectious laugh as the day went on. The more Alarico sweat, the more his tan skin glowed in the fluorescent lighting.
How the hell had Pith managed to be so enamoured by somebody who he had never spoken to for over thirty seconds? He was enchanted.
Even his mentor Ashby seemed to notice his glances at the boy from time to time.
"Why are you staring at 9?" She pulled up to Pith on her scooter while he was getting a water break, "You know he's the enemy, right."
Pith didn't understand how a creature so magical in appearance could be an enemy, silly considering he didn't know him.
"He's just… nice," Pith blushed as Ashby spoke.
"Talk to him then," She gave him a pat on the back and then went elsewhere, presumably to help Dephra who was as usual, acting like a hot mess.
Pith could never talk to Alarico. That would ruin the magic he had created inside his head. He never wanted the days to end and he didn't know if he would rather go home to 11 alive or in a casket. Either way he would be without the golden boy who he didn't know and who didn't know him. It was pathetic, fucking pathetic. Why, oh why did it have to be like this? Why was he simply unable to speak to him. Pith had become oddly disturbed with his own self.
"Maybe I will," He replied to Ashby, giving her a sparkle in her eyes.
He wasn't.
Alarico was 18 and he was 15. They were both headed into a death match and they were not meant to work out but that didn't mean Pith was unable to dream.
EDISON MONTPARNASSE (18) - DISTRICT 3 MALE
This POV contains talk of sexual assault and grooming. Please proceed with caution.
Edison loved his allies, he truly did, but he would trade them away so quickly if it meant being able to spend the rest of his time in the Capitol without Pascal Packard. Edison had never been so disgusted in a person, which was saying a lot considering he had slept amongst street rats for quite a large bit of time.
Pascal was a delinquent, and not in the same way Edison was. While he stole bread from stores and dollars from pockets, Pascal was slowly stealing Edison's dignity. He thought the incident on the train would be the last of it, he really did, but it was truly nothing but the beginning. After the Parade, Edison was in his room when Pascal knocked on his door.
"Have you thought about my offer a bit more?" Pascal's voice was similar to the hiss of a snake.
Of course Edison had not thought about the offer. He didn't want to think about the offer ever again, yet that wasn't the only time Pascal brought it up.
"Have you thought about my offer a bit more?" His voice echoed in Edison's ears at all moments. Before the party especially when Edison was wearing a sleek suit and Pascal approached him, pinching his behind and once again repeating those disturbing words.
Edison was embarrassed to tell his allies about what had happened. They would always ask why he was spending so much time with his mentor, but Edison didn't have the courage to say what was going on.
What was going on was something that truly hurt deep. Edison didn't want to talk about it ever, as it happened repeatedly and it made it harder and harder for him to walk. Maybe he should have accepted the offer, because it was going to happen anyways and at least he could have gotten a reward from it.
No. Edison shouldn't have taken the offer. Everything that was happening wasn't his fault and what if's were stupid. He had heard about things like this happening to girls, but Edison never thought he would be next.
"You're next, big guy," His ally Challis gave him a pat on the back as he saw the girl from 2 leave the room where they were holding private sessions during the third day of training. Edison was a bit sore and a bit unsure.
He had an idea for what he should do for his private session, but he wasn't sure if he could even pull it off. It would require people believing him, and Edison truly didn't see why people would believe a crook like him.
"Hello, my name is Edison Montparnasse, I'm eighteen years old and I'm from District 3," He took off his top hat, his only piece of security and then bowed at the Head Gamemakers and their assistants at their window before putting his hat back on. They looked oddly nice and friendly, something good considering they were supposed to be deciding the best way to kill him in the arena.
Edison went over to one of the body dummies and started beating it senseless, pretending he saw Pascal's hideous face on it every time he struck. Oh how he wished it was Pascal's face. Seeing it all bloody and beaten would be an odd treat.
"I need to say something," Edison stopped what he was doing. He knew he only had one chance at seeking justice, and he was going to do anything if it meant him facing the punishments he deserved.
"Are you okay, sweetie," One of the Head Gamemakers, her name Lysistrata or something spoke into her microphone as Edison sat on the ground in the middle of the training center floor. It was a bit dirty but he truly didn't mind dirt anymore.
"Hi," Edison gulped on his words, "I wanted to talk to you guys about my mentor, Pascal Packard."
Lysistrata looked at her wife, the other Head Gamemaker, "Go on."
"Pascal Packard sexually assaulted me," Saying the words out loud for the first time caused Edison to have a sigh of relief, "He asked me to sleep with him, I said no, and then he assaulted me."
As soon as the initial part was over, Edison felt compelled to keep going. Speaking his truth was so oddly freeing in the best way possible. He told them about the train and before the party and the way it was hard for him to walk now because of what Pascal had done. For some odd reason, Edison trusted them. He didn't know what it was that made him do it, but Pascal truly felt that Lysistrata and her wife. They just seemed like they were good people.
"Thank you for sharing that with us," Lysistrata said once Edison was finished.
He let out a huge sigh of relief, "Thank you for listening."
"What score would you like, love?" She asked him, "We'll take care of your issue."
"Eleven!" Obviously Edison had to dream big.
"We can't do that," Lysistrata laughed, "Will an 8 suffice?"
Edison nodded his head and left the room. He starred in the mirror, in utter disbelief at what he had just done. It was somewhat… heroic. He only hoped they meant what they said when they mentioned "taking care of" Pascal, though it wasn't like it could possibly get any worse.
"How did it go?" Alarico greeted him as he found him and Challis once again.
"I got an 8," Edison smiled.
Hey guys, thanks for reading the third and final chapter of training! Every chapter that gets us closer to the bloodbath is extremely exciting to me. Next chapter we'll be taking a deep dive at private sessions, so drop score predictions if you'd like. Also, thank you so much for 200 reviews! I appreciate all of you so much.
My next contest is fun. You know what the prize is but basically you have until August 30th to write an A Perfect Union song. Interpret that how you like and send it to be however.
Best of luck to everybody,
Lindsay
Current Alliances:
Career Cult/Pack: Eros Fortuna (D1M), Fila Ollaris (D1F), Bellerophon "Bell" Cristos (D2M), Moira Mikkel (D2F), Kingston Havlock (D4M), Lana Lotus (D4F)
HA Nerds!: Clancy Dietrich (D5M), Ares Krishnan (D5F), Camber Yaw (D6A)
The Fraternity But Less Toxic: Edison Montparnasse (D3M), Challis Lam (D8M), Alarico de Oro (D9M)
Lone Wolves: Liana Taylor (D3F), Sperry Holster (D6F), Palmer Adams (D7M), Saffron "Saf" Aldeniz (D9F), Pith Plastid (D11M), Dephra Kirk (D11F), Etta Wiseman (D12F)
Fuck Men: Marcel Hemlock (D7F), Teresa McClean (D8F)
Babysitting: Alabastor Contreras (D10M), Piper Sanderson (D10F), Morgan Barrow (D12M)