Y'know I've been a total speed demon with writing stuff lately, so I thought I'd fill up your inboxes with another notification! I've been really enjoying writing this story (even though this is Ben from several chapters in the future since I'm writing in advance), and I'm so glad that people are reading and interested in what's coming next.
It's been a busy week this week, but life never lets up, so writing has really been a bit of a muse for me, where I can relax. It's becoming a very positive thing for me, and that's honestly really healthy, so yeah, good vibes.
Thank you to twistedservice, contemporarydancer2, ladyqueerfoot who reviewed, and symphorophilia for our lovely discussions!
Now, I bring you the second part of the chariots!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games in any way, shape or form. I only own the arena I have created.
"When in doubt, don't." ~Benjamin Franklin
Leigha Tullson, Eighteen, District Six Female
Lights.
All I can see when I look out ahead of me are bright lights.
Ducking my head slightly, I blink the tears away and brush myself down. I'm trying to remain so composed, staring out into a crowd I cannot see. I don't want to look like I'm not ready for this, even when I can feel my knees shaking and my hands trembling. I pat down the metal plates on my bodysuit, making sure that the seamless outfit is just as perfect as it was thirty seconds ago. Even though I know there's no dirt on me, I still feel as if something, somewhere is out of place. It's as if I have an itch that I just can't scratch, or that I'm uncomfortable in some way but I can't pin down the problem. Am I ready for this? Am I prepared enough?
Well, no, nothing could have ever truly prepared me for this, and yet I've been so content for so long, allowing myself to live a life of delusion. It's almost as if I had confidence in the system to never allow me to be reaped, and yet here I am. Creating positive thoughts is harder than you think it is, and the train ride here was really tough. Still, being stripped of all dignity by my stylist and their assistants has given me enough time to process how I'm going to get out of the arena alive.
Mona, my mentor, said that I'll need allies, maybe some weapons training and survival skills too. Geoni, my district partner, will not be included in my options. He's a nice enough kid and incredibly geeky; just as I thought he'd be when we shook hands at the reaping. For the first couple of hours we spent together, he went on and on about various contraptions and his life as a Mayor's son, and as much as I'd hate to admit it, he bored me. He soon gave up. I don't want to be rude to him or anything, but he was getting a little annoying. That's just how children can be, and Geoni's only thirteen.
This is no game for a child.
I need to look for tributes that are older, who have more potential. Maybe District Seven? Their chariot is adorned with all kinds of leaves and plants, fans blowing leaves up and down in vigorous swirls. The girl from Seven looks just as upset as I feel about being here, a leafy dress matching that of the leafy shirt and shorts that the boy wears. The boy seems more determined, composed on the outside like I am. I question if he is feeling the same way that I am right now. Sure, he may save face on the outside, but how is he feeling on the inside?
There's a resonance there that draws me to him. His composure and mine; it makes sense.
I make sure to remember him for later.
District Eight are dressed the same as last year, with dyes splashed all over their bodies, a fabulous display of incredible colours I never thought existed. The boy looks rearing to go, whereas the girl just looks flat out pissed off, both of them having flaming red hair. I sigh to myself and pass them up. The District Nine tributes have been perched in baskets of overflowing grains, with wheat crowns upon their heads that flick one way or the other with every moment. The girl looks fresh-faced and young, although she appears to be grounding herself, her eyes closed and head bowed. The boy is following suit, although he seems burlier and more prepared. I add them to my mental list.
A finger pokes my side and I jump, not expecting someone to catch me unawares. It's Geoni, looking up at me through his glasses, his small beady eyes giving me a look I cannot describe. It feels like he's almost x-raying me, or if he's trying to size me up. That considered, my skin begins crawling as I question his action.
"What do you want?" I ask him, on the defensive.
"What are we supposed to do when we go out there?" Geoni asks, his face adopting a nervous expression.
"I guess we just...wave?" I respond, shrugging my shoulders. I've been so focused on the other tributes and my own opinions that I haven't really given the sponsors much thought. How should I present myself? I don't want to blend in and not get any interest from anyone.
Nobody wants to sponsor you.
I push away those thoughts. There's no room for that kind of thinking right now. I have to remain positive and believe in myself to do this. Even if there's a slim chance of my victory, it can still be done. Despite my convictions, I can feel a sense of anxiety wash over me. Of course, my negative side has to rear its head and present me with all kind of ridiculous ideas. Often I believe them, but these aren't the silly wonderings of a young girl, these are the thoughts of a young woman, having to fight for her own survival.
Geoni doesn't say anything more, fiddling with his outfit. I look over to my left, distracting myself with the District Five tributes in an odd scene. The girl appears to be chattering away to her district partner, who is crouched on the ground, hiding away from his mentors, who are shoving a candle in his face. Despite how weird this all is, I can't help but refocus on the girl. She twitches occasionally, and while I'd usually pin someone like her down as crazy, I can tell that there's something more there. Beyond the twitching, there's a focus, a determination in her eyes that gets so intense that I quickly look away, fearful of her catching my gaze. I add her to my list of potential allies.
Trumpets blaze and the music begins, just as the District Five mentors coax the boy on to the chariot and chain him to the thing. They slot in a small candle, and the boy seems transfixed by the wriggling flame. I can't be as much of a goner as he will be, and while that thought isn't the nicest, it does give me some flicker of hope.
As the crowd roars and the chariots begin to lurch forward, I prepare myself. There's no going back; there's only ever going forward. I've always been wary of the world and what it has in store for me, but now I know that I should stand tall and be ready for whatever comes, because no matter what, there's always a chance, right?
It's time I took my first steps into the unknown.
Morgana Murray, Seventeen, District Eleven Female
This world is an unknown anomaly to me.
Often I prepare for everything, considering every avenue or possibility, but this world is completely different, and I don't know what to expect. The feeling of being watched by thousands of people and hundreds of cameras is overwhelming. My chariot and the unsteadiness of it is distracting me from waving to the crowds. Not only that but beyond my fake smile and half-hearted wave, I can't help but look at the other tributes, who probably look better than we do.
I've always been tactically minded, with fresh ideas and smart plans. I know not to overestimate myself, but I also know not to underestimate others.
In front of us is the District Ten chariot, dressed to the nines in their usual cow outfit. I do kind of feel bad for the Ten tributes, having to dress up like this every year. The girl seems somewhat nonchalant, waving to the crowd and looking as if she doesn't really want to be there but isn't bothered about it either. The boy seems confident, puffing out his chest as he waves to the crowd, smiling widely. Clearly, someone's trying to get sponsors, but honestly, I don't blame him. To any normal tribute, the pair from Ten could be desirable allies.
Not for me though! I have my eyes on a bigger prize: the Career pack.
Back home, I was trained by my parents to do my best to prepare for every possible option. Now that I've been reaped, I have to consider putting both my smarts and my skills to the test, which starts by breaking the District Eleven mould. It's not uncommon for outlier tributes to partner with the Careers, although it's not exactly the usual either. Most tributes tend to stay away from each other if they can to try and survive another day, but I'm clear in my mindset. Joining the Careers will guarantee me a spot in the final twelve, although I'm also well aware that there are years when that doesn't work out.
Despite it all, I know that I'm a perfect fit for the Careers. I've had my training and I have the mindset. All I have to do is to prove myself and get them to trust me. It's a tall order for someone like me, but I know that I'm up to it and there's definitely no harm in trying. I smile wider as I wave to the crowd, grateful for my own outfit this year. Much akin to last year, we have baskets woven from twigs, and I toss various vegetables towards the crowd, putting on a grand facade - anything to get a single person to consider sponsoring me. Mine and Cleve's outfits are very much the same, woven from common grasses dotted with wildflowers in different colours.
Cleve is also waving beside me, although his attitude is more reserved. He's only young, but there's a maturity to him that I didn't expect at all. It's strange how many personalities you see in Eleven, but I don't think that I've ever met someone so young who views the world as an adult would. I've been nice enough to Cleve, but I've made it clear to him and Chive, my mentor, that my eyes are set firmly on the Careers.
Looking over my shoulder, I can safely bet that my chances are better than the duo from Twelve, dressed up as coal miners, the lights on the chariot swivelling around wildly as fake soot is thrown outwards from the chariot. The girl looks willowy and somewhat frail, while the boy just looks lost in thought. Both of them are waving, but I wouldn't say that either of them are a cause for concern just yet.
All the chariots finally gather in the area before the President's podium, where I can spot a glimpse of President Snow's white hair and he calms down the crowd and clears his throat.
"Welcome, welcome, tributes of the 81st Hunger Games!" he begins. "We appreciate your humble sacrifices in order to provide incredible entertainment for the citizens of Panem."
He chatters on for a little while longer, but I tune the President out. I really can't be bothered to listen to the leader of Panem and his glorified vitriol. He can save that for when I've won.
It takes a matter of minutes for us to get to the other side of the parade and away from the safety of the prying cameras. I let loose a small sigh of relief at the fact that all of this is over, and I pinch my nose briefly as I step down from our chariot. Everyone plays their cards and makes their moves, but sometimes it really does become all too overwhelming. As for me, I know I'm ready for a full nights sleep.
Our mentor, Chive is waiting for us when we get to the other side of the stadium. As we approach, she gives us a warm yet tentative smile. I know that look well enough. It's a look of a mentor worried that the children she's mentoring are going to die instantly. There more though...a flicker of hope that lies behind her brown eyes. It must be gruelling every year, building a connection with children that are likely to fall, trying to teach them innovative ways to survive above the others. Chive has been pretty great to us so far, offering us some tips on what each of us has to do during training, and what general things we should be considering in the Games. She didn't seem fazed when I mentioned the Careers; I think she took in my lean build and determination and pinned me down for a tribute stronger than most from Eleven.
I know that I'm prepared for this. I know my way around both a weapon and a person, and I'm prepared to do what I have to do to make it to the end.
I'll make it there, whatever it takes.
Ah, it's time for the training days. I can hear the blades being sharpened already, and the alliances are beginning to form, which means that we can start to see how the tributes will all line up.
What do you think of Leigha's current mindset? Will her negativity get her down or will she be able to overcome it?
Morgana knows her way around the Games, or does she? How do you think she'll get on with her goal to work with the Careers?
How did you like the chariot outfits for the Districts this time around?
The first impressions poll is up on my profile and you're able to vote on it! Let me know what you think about our wonderful cast of characters. Do you have any alliance predictions? What about tributes who may clash? I guess you'll just have to wait and see…
Over and out!
~Mental