Chapter V, Capitol: Rebirth
- Six Feet Under -
The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games
Training Day Two: Morning
Tayanna Harjo, District Six Tribute
Another day, another… day closer to the end?
Tay wasn't one for an array of expressive emotions. Internally, however, they had worked through suspicion, anger, sadness and confusion in the span of a few hours. The only way they knew how to overcome it was to slather it in humour, if only to make the world seem less bleak.
It didn't help that Tay just felt… different.
They couldn't put their finger on it. A few hours into the night, the sickness that plagued many of the other tributes finally hit them. Cold sweats, stomach cramps, followed by an explosive headache that made Tay feel as if they were being split into two.
A subtle knock at the door didn't tear Tay's eyes away from the mirror.
"Tay, are you up?"
Vendelin sounded quieter than normal. Tay had passed him in the night collecting a glass of water.
"Fira wants to talk to us. She says it's urgent."
The reflection stared back at Tay as they punished themselves, raking over every womanly curve that felt more prominent in the passing days.
"Is it?" Tay replied, "I guess I better drop everything."
Tay heard Vendelin shuffle away. I'm stronger than I give myself credit for. I am brave and courageous and iron-willed. Tay's pep talk fell on deaf ears, though, as a sense of defeat continued to blossom somewhere inside.
Eventually, Tay pried themselves from the mirror, completely missing the malevolent reflection that lingered, unmoving, a smile full of teeth and eyes that followed them from the room.
In the main apartment, Fira was waiting. Vendelin sat nervously on the far end, as if wanting to distance himself from the horror that Fira was no doubt ready to spill.
"What's the issue then?" Tay spoke up, plopping themselves down on the couch.
"It's… a big issue."
Tay could visibly feel the air being sucked from the room. It was suddenly dense and claustrophobic.
"You might as well just say it," Tay braced themselves, "I'm sure that Vendelin and I are big enough to deal with it."
Fira's ghostly complexion felt even more pale than usual. She held a certain level of fear in her eyes that Tay locked onto immediately, recognising as the same expression that looked back at her on most days.
"Where's Luran anyway?" Tay spewed, just as Fira was ready to fire it out, "Sorry… I just noticed he isn't here."
"He has some things to deal with," Fira smiled softly.
"Okay…" Tay didn't realise they were a bundle of nerves until now. Another new emotion for the day. Awesome.
"Your sickness is… a side effect."
"I knew it!"
All eyes fell on Tay but, for the first time since arriving in the Capitol, they finally had some truth to their paranoia. Their argument with that dickhead from District Nine suddenly felt validating.
Fira's smile fell, "…you have powers."
Tay blinked, "I'm sorry, what?"
"Limos' gift to you, Her tributes," Fira recited the line that was etched in stone, crafted into each Hunger Games. "It's only a temporary thing, but… it's to prove that Limos is generous and understanding, to give each tribute a fair shot."
Tay's mind was a foggy haze. It felt so incredibly farfetched and unreal that, somehow, it wasn't as surprising as it should've been.
The forthcoming silence was deafening. Fira's eyes flickered between the two tributes sat in front of her. Whilst Vendelin seemed frozen in time, Tay's face expressively held their contempt and confusion.
"I wish I could tell you more," Fira continued, "It's… something you have to learn."
"You take a lot of pauses," Tay could only say, trying somehow to rationalise their feelings into something more tangible to understand.
Vendelin spoke up, "What… how… what do we have?"
"I don't know," Fira's smile was sympathetic, "I just know that they wanted us to tell you. This morning. Because… because you're going to have to learn how to use them if you want to survive."
What is that supposed to mean? Tay didn't know if they were annoyed, angry, unbothered or bothered. The complexity of emotions did one thing, though, and Tay took a deep, shaky breath as they shut down every urge to scream.
"Thank you for telling us," Tay remained polite, knowing it had nothing to do with Fira herself.
"That's… a lot," Vendelin mumbled.
"It is. I'm so sorry, kids. I wish it was better news."
"I mean, we're going to probably die, right?" Tay laughed dryly, "It's just the icing on the cake, you know? Another little twist of the knife?"
Tay didn't realise that they felt so bitter about it. It was just another thing to add to the shitshow of the Capitol. Being with Ares had made Tay feel… good… and it suddenly felt like a cold, hard lie.
Ares…
Tay braced themselves for the girl's inevitable confusion.
"You better head down. It's almost time."
Vendelin and Tay rose silently, stirred full of emotions as they entered the elevator. Vendelin leaned forward, pressing the button for the bottom floor. The doors shut and Tay's world closed in around them just a little more.
"Are you going to make an alliance with that girl?" Vendelin asked, seemingly out of nowhere.
Tay looked up, "Huh? Oh, you mean Ares?"
"Is that her name?" Vendelin smiled, "It's a nice name."
"I don't know. It's not official, I guess? What do you even do? How do you ask someone to team up with you when only one of you can live anyway?"
"Maybe… maybe it's not what we think…"
"Do you believe that?" Tay asked, voice crackling. Tay wanted to cry, scream, or simply punch something. Instead, they knew they had to play tactical. Emotions were easy to manipulate. If Tay wanted to survive, somehow, then they needed to play the game.
"I want to."
It was the most honest conversation that Tay and Vendelin had shared — two completely different people from different backgrounds.
"You're not as weird as you seem, Ven," Tay shook their head. They had to remain as positive as they could. No point being miserable now… there are better hills to die on. Tay smiled as best as they knew how, "I think you're pretty cool."
Vendelin laughed, "Thanks… I think?"
The elevator reached the bottom and opened up. Tay spared a final glance at Vendelin, seeking reassurance from a boy they barely knew, before the pair headed out into the unknown once more.
Odell Martinot, District Seven Male
"Tributes! Welcome, welcome! I'm sure you all heard the good news this morning!"
Odell and Eustolia probably had the most muted reactions to the 'news' when it was handed to them ungracefully by Boone. Eustolia had been blank — her trademark, Odell had come to realise — whilst Odell, himself, could only laugh dryly.
This ought to be good, Odell had his arms crossed over his chest, holding his expression somewhere between cool and a grimace. Eustolia was at his right, eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to digest the situation.
The entire training centre was different. The stalls full of survival knowledge had disappeared, replaced by strange equipment and courses. It was apparent that the lesson had changed from defensive to offensive.
"You okay?" Odell whispered in Eustolia's direction.
She nodded, "I'm fine, thank you."
"You have been blessed by Limos herself! For her gratitude, you have been bestowed generous, almighty gifts to ensure your fight for Her worth is fair and deserved!"
The bodiless voice seemed so incredibly proud of himself that Odell couldn't help but snigger under his breath.
"You will use your last two days to test your powers! Practise, learn, adapt!"
Odell's eyes scanned the group of teenagers around him. It seemed a rather muted response — there were no tears, no fearful screams for mercy, no… anything. Instead, the room stank of defeat and unwavering compliance.
"How do we know what powers we have?"
"What if I want a better one?"
Odell nodded in agreement, a swell of adrenaline at the sudden uproar by the other tributes. Yes, fight them, argue. Always at the centre of most debates, Odell was ready to jump in… but for the first time in his life, a stronger, more dominant sense of survival overwhelmed him.
Shut up, head down, win.
He knew that the Capitol was in control. As much as he wanted to argue the facts and logic behind their religion, he also knew how to time it and place it, neither of which was now.
"Enjoy your morning, Limos' tributes! The bell will tell you when lunch is served!"
"I won't be eating their lunch this time," Odell commented, glancing down at Eustolia, "You don't seem okay."
Odell didn't know why he cared… just that something made him feel a grave amount of pity for his district partner.
"I'm fine," Eustolia smiled emptily, "Have a nice morning, Odell."
And just like that, she was off. Odell watched her body melt into the crowd. He hoped she would find allies. He wasn't particularly connected to her in any way — but he wasn't a monster, either. Nobody deserved death, not really.
Odell looked around the room, eyeing up the weird, newfangled objects. Holographic simulations. A large, encased tube. Various gym equipment and courses. At the far end, there was even a large, aquamarine pool that glistened under the lights.
This must be to do with our 'gifts', Odell thought. They want us to practise and learn, but maybe they don't even know what we have?
Odell looked down at his fingers and hands, turning them over his gaze. He didn't feel or look any different than last night.
His mind raced, wondering what he got, when he realised that there had to be a catch.
There is no way that the Capitol just hands out this power without paying a price… Odell was suspicious.
There were also people this time. Dotted around the room, select individuals watched and coaxed, dressed in dark red cloaks and hoods that shrouded their expressions. The tributes began to nervously test the machinery, encouraged by the silent men and women that eerily looked on.
Odell's curiosity got the better of him eventually.
He treaded carefully on the outskirts, observing. The blonde-haired boy from Nine stepped into a tube, a strong vacuum causing his skin and hair to wobble. The girl from Two nervously allowed wires to be attached to her veins.
He couldn't quite believe the compliance.
A sudden ruckus stole Odell's attention, though. There was a whoop and a cheer followed by observant mumbles. In the far corner on a mat, the girl from Twelve sparred eagerly with a stuffed mannequin.
Odell paused as her fist soared through the air, striking the mannequin that exploded on impact.
"Awesome!"
His eyes widened. What the fuck…?
The red-cloaked watcher mumbled under his breath. The girl looked up, incredulous, "What was that? Did I just kill it with my hands?"
The man didn't respond.
"That was wild."
Odell looked out the corner of his eye at the boy next to him, "So I'm not going mad… you saw it too."
The boy smirked, "Yeah, I saw it. It's… interesting. It's really just changed up the whole game for those that mightn't have had a chance beforehand."
Odell found himself looking down at his hands, realising that he had a strange, surreal sensation in the tips.
"Do you know what you have yet?"
Odell scoffed, "It's only been a few hours. I think you should've waited for the investigation a bit longer."
"Investigation? You wound me, stranger."
Odell knew his game — the boy clearly had ulterior motives. He wanted to suss the abilities as the tributes realised them. To learn, adapt, and beat. Odell saw right through the underhanded tactic… but he appreciated it.
"What do they call you?" Odell wanted to play the boy at his own game.
"Roman," Roman answered, keeping his face steady, "You're from District Seven. Your calloused hands are telling."
Odell nodded, "Perceptive."
"That's a strange name."
Odell laughed, "I'm Odell. Not that it should matter to you."
"You asked first," Roman countered, "It's only polite to reply."
"It's also polite to not talk about peoples' hands," Odell shot back, looking down at Roman's perfectly clean and tidy nails, "I can see you've never worked a day in your life."
"I work smart, not hard"
The girl in front of them continued to pulverise the mannequins as they were replaced. Her eagerness drew in the other tributes around her as they realised the extent of their peril — a girl who could throw a punch so strong that it destroyed objects?
Odell clenched his jaw, "I think you'll have to learn to do both if you hope for a chance to win."
Roman laughed, turning on his heel to walk away, "And that's where you're wrong, Odell from Seven… because there's no winning, there's only surviving."
Sanjay Romala, District One Male
Sanjay watched as Roman walked back to the group, a swagger in his step.
"Did you find anything interesting out?" Geneva asked curiously.
"I'm sure you all witnessed what I did," Roman replied, "She has a lot of weight behind her punches. That's a little concerning to us, no?"
"I think it's fair," Sanjay cut in.
The group looked at him but he smiled, unfazed by their confusion or judgement. The only one who remotely shared a knowing look was Ludwin, as if their morals aligned somehow.
"You're really something, aren't you, Sanjay?"
"I'd like to think so," Sanjay answered Roman, not allowing himself to be baited by him.
"Let's move on from that," Geneva looked at each member of their rag-tag, forced alliance, "Does anyone feel any different? Any indication to their gift?"
Everyone either shrugged, shook their head, or simply didn't have an answer.
Sanjay admired the way Geneva held command. She was firm and elegant in her speech, captivating and masterful. Somehow, despite the polarising personalities, she held the group as one.
But Sanjay knew he didn't belong.
Between Geneva's authoritarian leadership and Roman's ego, the group was solely dominated on one focus — to push the favour of the Hunger Games purely in their favour. Sanjay wanted to win — of course he did, like everyone did — but something about their tactics and methods felt… icky.
"Right," Geneva nodded, "We should continue to pull in as much intel as possible."
"Who are we to judge Limos' choice?" Cosette butted in, "Their powers are their own. We shouldn't interfere with that."
"I didn't say that, did I?"
"It feels wrong," Cosette continued, surprising Sanjay. Whilst his thoughts came from morals, Cosette's was driven by her religion.
"We have to take advantage of our… advantage," Geneva rebutted.
Sanjay was quickly beginning to realise that they were all just too different. They were a cataclysmic cesspool of differing ethics that just did not work and, like a timebomb, their time was ticking.
Sanjay gulped, wanting to diffuse the rising tensions, "Shall we try out some of the training exercises? We can focus on our powers to gather information and then we can go from there."
Cosette nodded, "I think that's a good idea."
Geneva stared at Sanjay, her emotionless eyes boring into his head, "If you think that's a good idea, we should try it."
Sanjay held her gaze and smiled nervously, "I'll start over on the left side."
"I'll come with you," Ludwin stepped through Roman and Cosette, "Best to stay together and all that."
Sanjay sighed in relief, "Yeah, I agree."
Eventually, the group divided up. Myria followed Geneva rather obediently, whilst Roman and Cosette parted as far from each other as possible. Ludwin, however, stuck by Sanjay's side and he was thankful for that.
"Can I tell you something in confidence?" Sanjay asked as they walked.
Ludwin nodded, "I think I know what you're about to say."
"Oh?"
"I agree," Ludwin's smile was thin, "It's not going to work, is it?"
Sanjay felt like he had a duty to the others. Whilst there hadn't been any explosive arguments to really push him out, he just knew that he had to stick to his heart — and his heart was telling him to abandon the doomed alliance pronto.
"I don't know what to do," Sanjay needed to be practical, "Answer me this: do you honestly think we could make it work? The six of us?"
Ludwin paused, looking behind them to make sure the others weren't watching them. "Honestly? Myria is the most I trust… besides you."
Sanjay knew he couldn't say the same for Geneva. He didn't think ill towards her, but he also knew that she would do whatever it took to survive. And, if that meant that Sanjay had to go, then it would happen. He didn't know if he could willingly stick around knowing that truth.
"Sanjay?" Ludwin broke him from his thoughts, "Don't stress about it, man. We have time."
"We only have a day," Sanjay rebutted, "After that, if we leave them, it isn't fair on them. I don't want to screw them over in the process of looking after myself—"
"—ourselves," Ludwin smiled charmingly, "I don't know if you've realised this or not, but we're in this together. You and I."
Sanjay's smile of relief was undeniable, "Yeah?"
Ludwin slapped his hand on Sanjay's shoulder, sending a powerful surge through his body, as if made of pure electricity. "Absolutely. You're a nice guy, Jay. Trustworthy. Wholesome. It's the best type of ally I want."
Sanjay couldn't decide whether he was happier or relieved. Possibly even both.
"It still doesn't decide what we need to do."
Ludwin shrugged, "Whatever you decide, I'll follow. I have your back."
The two boys smiled, cementing their inner-alliance against the odds. Sanjay knew that he had to work something out, though. Something that everyone would benefit from… somehow. It was both a blessing and a curse to want the best scenario for everyone when said outcomes only spelled disaster.
"Let's just do some training," Ludwin suggested, "Distract us for a little bit."
"And we'll have something to input to the group hopefully."
"Yeah," Ludwin laughed, "Or, we don't have to tell them."
"I—" Sanjay paused, "—I'm not a very good liar."
"It's not lying, it's… forgetting to tell every detail," Ludwin smiled, "Just leave it with me."
It was almost possible to forget their dire, unusual situation. Ludwin just had that effect on him, almost the big brother that Sanjay felt towards his younger brothers…
"…I can't remember their names…"
"What was that?"
Sanjay shook his head. I'm just overwhelmed, that's all. "It's nothing. We should get moving before one of the others sees us."
"Oh," Ludwin smirked as they walked again, "I think someone is more sneaky than they realise."
Sanjay laughed, ignoring the dark, little voice that whispered at the back of his head, "Let's not go that far just yet."
Isla Caldero, District Eleven Female
As far as Isla could remember, she had never received any validation for her paranoia or burdening fears… until now.
She sussed it out almost immediately yesterday, when the headache appeared out of nowhere, followed by the countless cases of sickness that swept through the training centre like a virus carried on the wind.
They did something to us…
"What do you think of this, Isla?"
Isla was distracted, staring off into the distance blankly. She glanced in Cal's direction, realising he was staring at something just off to the side of them.
"What is it?"
"I don't know?" Cal frowned, "It looks… weird."
The contraption was made of metal and wires with a large dome hanging overhead as if it was meant to be worn like a hat. The chair beneath it seemed sinister, but only less so than the voiceless woman who stared at them with empty, dark eyes.
"I'm not going in it," Isla mumbled, nervously staring at the woman from the corner of her eye.
Cal smiled politely, making eye contact with the woman. "Excuse me? What is this?"
"Sit down in it."
The words sent a chill up Isla's spine. She kept her eyes levelled on the woman. "Cal…"
"But what does it do?" Cal continued to ask.
Isla didn't like this one bit. Something cold nestled itself in her stomach and wouldn't wash away. She flicked her eyes between the woman and Cal, fingers nervously reaching out for the hem of Cal's training outfit as if he might step forward.
"Find out."
"Let's go…" Isla whispered, "I don't feel good about this."
The unsettled nature of the exchange made Cal finally relent. He smiled apologetically, following Isla as she guided him away.
"We can't avoid all of them," Cal mumbled, "We'll be wasting our time."
Isla chewed her bottom lip, "I know, I just don't feel good about that. What if it's meant to cause some sorta harm to encourage our 'powers' out of us?"
Powers… The notion felt silly, but as much as Isla wanted to deny it, she knew it was there. The Capitol seemed too clued up to simply throw them a red herring. Why lie when they could tease and torture instead?
Cal and Isla quietly walked through the training centre. The little bundled up groups seemed far and few between — most of the tributes stuck alone or lingered simply in the vision of another. It was as if nobody wanted to make an alliance… but they didn't want to be alone either.
"Isla, I've been meaning to ask…"
Isla paused, "Sure?"
"Are we— are we, you know— are we allies?"
Isla smiled, warmth spreading in her chest, "I guess we are… if you want?"
Isla didn't have anyone else. Her only interaction had been with Amryn who she had almost forgotten about. She looked out into the crowd almost longingly, a small lightbulb flashing in her head.
"Cal, do you trust me?" Isla asked, although if she was honest, she didn't know if she trusted herself completely.
Cal nodded, "I do. I mean, we have to, right?"
Isla smiled shyly, "Yeah, we do, but I mean something else. What if… we made our alliance bigger?"
Cal frowned in confusion, "You want to bring someone else in?"
As Cal spoke, Isla began to realise how silly she sounded. She didn't know Amryn, let alone place trust in her. There was just something comforting that Isla had found in Amryn yesterday — something that made her feel validated in some way.
"You're right, it sounds crazy—"
"—I trust you," Cal nodded, determination spread across his face and creasing his brow, "If you think it's a good idea, then I support you. I trust you to lead us, Isla."
Lead us? Isla paused. "Cal, I—"
"Is it that girl? The one you were speaking to yesterday when you had the headache?"
Isla nodded silently, not trusting herself any longer. It's a stupid idea. I don't know why I even thought of it. Cal and I will be fine, I'm sure… I think… I hope…
Cal smiled, "Let's find her then."
Cal led the way, a stride in his step as he eagerly accepted Isla's contradictory suggestion. Isla followed, still unsure, as they spotted Amryn in the far corner upon a raised platform, nervously holding a wooden stick.
As they drew nearer, though, Cal froze. He looked back at Isla, nervous, and that's when Isla realised that whilst he had every intention to do it, he balked at the idea of stepping too far out of his comfort zone.
Isla smiled sympathetically, stepping up, "Amryn?"
Amryn turned, stick grasped in her hands, "Oh, Isla."
"This is gonna sound crazy…" Isla paused, as if stuck on her words. What if she says no? What if she thinks the idea is just as ridiculous as it sounded aloud? "Did you— do you want to do some training with Cal and I?"
Amryn's eyes widened, "Oh, uh— it's a nice offer—"
"—You don't have to say yes," Isla recovered, "It was just, you know, if you wanted to not be alone for a while…"
Isla watched as Amryn's posture stiffened anxiously. Then, she let out an audible sigh, before seeming to relax ever-so-slightly.
"Sure," Amryn croaked, "It'll be nice to not be alone."
Isla watched as Amryn blushed, not realising that Cal was behind her, grinning toothily.
"Did you… want to try this?" Amryn held out the wooden stick, "It's pretty easy once you get used to it."
It was the least menacing activity around. Isla stepped up nervously onto the raised platform, accepting the stick from Amryn.
"What do I do?"
"You just… smack it," Amryn smiled supportively.
Isla stepped up to the mannequin that rose from beneath the floor. The stick quivered in her hand but she refused to back down. With a hard grip and a hefty swing, Isla sent the stick crashing into the stuffed head.
And that's when her head split open, pain scorching through her skull and darkening her senses. She vaguely heard the stick clatter as it hit the floor, muted.
But all Isla could see, though, was dark smoke swirling around the base of the mannequin. It rose, twisting and shaping into a figure… a figure that Isla recognised as the man that had cradled her when she was only a babe.
Her heart thumped. "Dad?"
"You need to wake up, Isla!"
The figure distorted as her 'Dad' rushed at her, ghostly mouth parted in an eternal cry that evaporated around Isla's trembling body. Eventually, colour returned to her world. Amryn and Cal were at Isla's side, confused and concerned.
"What happened?" Amryn asked.
Cal reached out with a sensitive hand, "Isla… are you okay?"
Isla's breath was sharp and ragged. She didn't know what was real or in her head. She couldn't be certain if she was dreaming, hallucinating, or delirious from anxiety.
"I—I'm fine…"
"Tributes! It is time for lunch!"
Isla didn't want to talk about it. She forced a small, shaky smile full of doubt and worry, and began walking towards the cafeteria, only hoping that Cal and Amryn would follow.
w w w. sixfeetunderhg. blogspot. c o m.
Questions!
Who do we like the most here outta these four?
If you could save a singular tribute from this monstrosity, who would it be and why?
As if I've updated in a reasonable time? What is this?
I've had a sudden bout of creativity and I just want to push through these Chapitols so I can kill some kids and break some hearts.
Firstly, though, as we know, Tay is non-binary. I want to be sensitive and write it to the best of my ability. I've checked the section, but please let me know if I've slipped into the wrong pronouns out of habit.
Secondly, our superpowers are appearing! Some are obvious, some aren't. Don't worry: the majority of tributes will have their powers shown before the arena. Some will just have to wait until the right moment.
~Corey.