XXXII. HIGHWAY TO HELL

Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.

Livia Cardew. 59.
First Lady of Panem, Fmr.
[LOCATION REDACTED]. 9:35.

Livia didn't realize how little alone time she'd previously spent with Lucien until they'd been on the run for several days. Surely, she had those small moments with her son, the two of them having a chat upstairs in Livia's room after Coriolanus was asleep, but those were typically brief, never wanting to wake the tyrant because lord knew he didn't like being disturbed in the middle of the night. Turns out, even bastards need their beauty sleep. But that meant less time with Lucien. Less time as their marriage caught flame (as if embers weren't always there) and Livia was left standing in ash with a broom in hand, dusting away the remains of the man she couldn't believe she once loved. And to him, Lucien was just stains from the fire left on the concrete floor in front of their house. To him, Lucien was nothing, and that meant Livia had to distance herself from her son, because whenever the two of them were together alone, Coriolanus took it as a threat, got worried they were going to run away from him and put his reputation in the grave.

And in a way, he sure as hell was right. They were indeed making their escape, and the thought of never seeing Coriolanus Snow's crusty face again was enough to keep Livia afloat. But she didn't want to expose him, make him irrelevant or anything like that. All Livia wanted was to be away from him, or even better, ensure Lucien's away from him. Livia could tolerate another one of his beatings, but if there was somebody watching over her, she swore to them and back that if he even laid a single finger on Lucien again, his body would be on the floor. She'd make sure of it, even if she died in the process. She ruined Lucien's life by creating it, and the only thing she could do to even slightly fix the worst mistake she ever made was give up her being for his.

(Not that Livia wanted to die, oh heavens no, Livia Cardew did not want to die. It would just be freedom from the snake who slept across the hallway from her for all those years —that's all.)

"Okay, I know this is the umpteenth time I've said this," Livia kicked through the dirt, the forests around her and her son admittedly looking more and more the same, "But I actually think we're almost there."

They'd been on the treck in the forests around the Capitol in search of her first cousin Xandros and his wife and daughter's cottage. Livia knew they'd let her and Lucien stay with them for a while, as they'd always warned her that "marrying that Snow boy is a bad idea," and now they felt horrible that their predictions came true per Livia's letters, so much so that they moved out to the forest in fear that Coriolanus would one day retaliate against Livia by hurting them.

"They're ridiculous for that," Coriolanus had scoffed when he heard the news through the grapevine, "Cowards, dare I say?"

Livia never responded to him.

Lucien seemed to sigh, probably frustrated and tired from all the walking, yet his eyes perked when they saw a small and familiar cottage in the distance, the boy nodding his head like he couldn't believe they'd actually found it.

"I told you so," Livia giggled before knocking on the door, footsteps immediately following the sound.

Soon, the door swung open, Xandros' wife Zienna squealing, "Livia? What have you gotten yourself into?"

Livia then realized that there was no way of them knowing what had happened to them, especially since they barely watched the news or read the papers, and additionally how would they have even been able to know things had gotten to be as bad as they were, especially when Coriolanus banned them from talking to Livia too much, something about how they were traitorous.

She walked inside the house per their invitation, the baby Fluvia screaming at Lucien's incredibly disheveled and disfigured appearance as he stood still and watched Livia explain the entire mess that had happened in the past few days.

"You should have called us, we could have helped direct you, Liv," Xandros sighed, still in disbelief of the entire situation.

"Didn't want him to monitor our comunicuffs of something," Livia shrugged, looking over to see Lucien making funny facing at Fluvia which caused her to laugh, "Or any other hacker could easily find out. I don't want people to know we're in danger, I just want us to be safe."

This disturbing look of worry hadn't left Zienna's face since Livia first arrived, leading her to eventually take a deep breath, "I have terrible news for you."

Lucien's eyes rapidly shifted to their direction, a worried look on his face. "Oh?" Livia vocalized. She was just as nervous as Lucien probably was, the two of them making up the worst possible outcome for this situation until their heads were about to pop when Zienna finally spoke.

"Your Gamemaker friends," She began, sweat dripping down her forehead, "Clemensia Dovecote and Lysistrata Vickers."

"Yes, them," Livia nodded her head, begin to worry for their safety. She could've sworn that she had plans with them they day after she ran away and she was kicking her shins for not somehow cancelling them and possibly causing them to worry, "What happened?"

"They're dead, Livia," Xandros continued the statement for his wife, his hands shaking with fear, "They said on the news that they after a terrible fall but I don't believe it for a a second." He looked back at his wife, "I think Coriolanus killed them."

Livia felt her heart race. Kill them? No, no, Coriolanus wouldn't do that, they were important to him, had to run his Games and what not. Why in Panem would he kill them?

Unless they somehow knew that she and Lucien were in danger.

(And that meant they weren't safe even now.)

Sable Hayashi. 18.
District Seven Female.
Purgatory. 11:15.

Sable tried her best to compress her rage towards Bonnie Byrd, an anger that had been swelling up inside of her for the past two days as Bonnie continued to get closer and closer with Auxiliary Nyquist of District Three, acting as though Sable was completely oblivious to all of it. Sable wasn't braindead, in fact she was always observant of everything around her, something she learned as her parents' bickering got worse and worse until her grandmother took her and Gio away from them. Sable knew something was wrong then, and she knew that Bonnie was lying to her when she said that Sable was the only persons she was interested in.

(Which was devastating at first. Sable did genuinely like Bonnie. She made her feel real special that one night they shared together, only for it to be ruined by glimpses of Aux as she headed to the elevator and murmurs of Bonnie saying she was bad in bed.)

(Like I'd even have time to be good in bed, and like I would be during my first time. Whatever)

She slept with Bonnie again though, becauTjse Sable feared that if she acted upset, like she knew something was going on behind the facade of her enormous blue eyes, then she'd get snapped at. Sable had only briefly seen what Bonnie was like when she was angry, but the utter disturbance and fear she had in her voice at those times was enough to make Sable want to stay away from that side of Bonnie forever.

So here she was, standing next to Bonnie in front of two changing rooms as they both were about to enter an arena designed to kill them, and Sable was so fucking worried that Bonnie would realize Sable was lying whenever she kissed her or said "I'm so glad I'm here with you." She prayed that Bonnie would never ask about the poem Sable promised her in the Training Center, since the truth was, Sable never wrote one. Her mind had always been filled with every word in the human language yet whenever she tried to conjure any of them in the context of Bonnie Byrd, it went blank.

(In a bad way, not like the way it went blank whenever Linnea just so much as looked at her back at home, the slightest glimpse of her eyes enough to make her forget her own name.)

And Sable was tired of feeling like a slave to herself, to Bonnie, and to all of Panem. She was angry at herself for acting so helpless, so fucking useless at the beginning of training because that's probably what made Bonnie gravitate to her, and even though Sable didn't know shit, had no skills to improve on since none existed in the first place, she shouldn't have acted like a lost dog looking for it's owner. Even though of course she wouldn't know then that Bonnie didn't give a shit about her. She wouldn't know then that Bonnie would scream Aux's name decibels louder than hers. Sable wouldn't know that she'd once again lose the girl of her dreams to a boy who was better than her in every way, shape, and form.

Even though Aux wasn't better than her. He was unpolished, looked almost like he was something that a cat brought in from the sewers, but he had music where Sable only had words, and maybe that made him better? Sable didn't understand how he especially could be better, unlike with Linnea where she was able to admit Gio's supremacy over her (as much as she hated it). But no, Sable wouldn't allow herself to be compared to Auxiliary Nyquist, she had to embrace the fact she was without a doubt better then him

And if Bonnie wants him more, then good for her, the two of them can be rats in hell together…

"Sable, can I tell you one last thing real quick?" She tried her best not to roll her eyes when Bonnie spoke to her before they entered the rooms to get changed for the Games. Sable had been looking for their third ally Lumi all morning, but she was nowhere to be seen, leading Sable to be a bit nervous since the Three girl's presence tended to be the only thing preventing her from slapping Bonnie in the face, "It's a bit important."

Sable assumed it would be about strategy, the three of them previously establishing that it would be best if they all just avoided the Cornucopia completely and tried to find one another on the outskirts, "Sure, go ahead." She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping whatever it was that Bonnie told her wouldn't ruin everything.

If only she could be that lucky.

"I kicked Lumi out," Bonnie said, perfectly matter of fact like there wasn't a problem in leaving somebody in an alliance meant to protect off to die in the cold outside arena that awaited them, or whatever the biome was, "You saw her interview right? She's a total freak show. We can't have that with us. We want sponsors, don't we?"

For a moment Sable was so silent as she decided she didn't want to scream. But she wouldn't, that would only let Bonnie get under her skin further than she already had. She wouldn't let Bonnie be a part of her forever.

"I… I understand," Still, the words spilled from Sable's mouth without much confidence, as she could only imagine the way Bonnie told Lumi, probably not a drop of sympathy in her voice. She probably acted like Lumi was the very sort of monster that she cleary thought she was. Sable didn't know much about Luminosity Abrixus, other then that she clearly was smart, had a decent head on her shoulders. Sable knew that she was broken too, it was clear from her interview that Lumi was broken, more then Sable could have ever dreamed she'd ever become herself.

Lumi didn't deserve this. She Volunteered, threw herself into all of this madness all by herself, still Lumi didn't deserve to suffer the way she just had at the hands of Bonnie. And then it also led Sable to be nervous that Lumi would now be seeking vengeance in a way, and Bonnie could be her target. She herself, could be Lumi's target, since who the hell knows what Bonnie said during that confrontation. She could have said that it was all Sable's idea to let her go in a half-assed attempt to save herself.

"Is she okay?" Sable asked though, trying to not reveal just how concerned she was, "She's seemed to have a rough go at it lately, that poor girl. I hope she at least took it well."

"Naturally she was a bit upset," Bonnie was likely lying, Sable imagining the way Lumi was possibly in tears in the same way she was at her interview. She didn't want to think of all the horrible things that Bonnie could have told her, "But I think she'll move on from it."

Yeah… Sable could tell it was bullshit. She knew how badly Lumi must be hurting and she couldn't help but dread the possibility of approaching her in the arena, "Do you think she'll kill us?" She whispered, her hands beginning to sweat, a Peacekeeper glaring at them like they had to go in and get ready soon but they weren't and it was bothersome.

"Why would she do that?" Bonnie was so stupidly oblivious to it all, gosh Sable had no idea how the hell she was previously so infatuated, "We still were good to her for a few days."

She didn't get it. She just didn't get it! Sable tried to not huff and puff, knock Bonnie over as much as she wanted to, already picturing the way blood would match the red in her hair. Sable was infuriated, she'd spent so much time being stuck on getting the girl, and now that she had a girl, it wasn't worth it. With Bonnie, Sable found herself more miserable then she was when she was all alone. Love was dead to Sable. She'd given up on it when she should have a long time ago. She should have from the moment she saw Gio kiss Linnea for the first time. She should have realized that she wasn't meant for love and she was an idiot for writing poem after poem in hopes that she'd somehow love her back even though she was too much of a coward to even give them to her.

Yes, that's it. Sable Hayashi was too much of a fucking coward to even love herself in the slightest. Yet she expected to be loved by others. She expected to love others the same. Her life was spiraling into an oxymoron as she feared it was on the brink of ending, but one thing was for certain. She'd be the last person Bonnie Byrd ever hurt.

Otto Wiley. 15.
District Six Male.
Purgatory. 11:45.

"Oh, you just look so handsome," One of the stylists looked Otto up and down and smiled before leaning down to pinch him on the cheek, "I could just eat you up, you're adorable."

He rolled his eyes, frustrated with her presence. In just fifteen minutes he'd be entering the arena and Otto honestly wasn't sure he could consider himself prepared for that. He'd done his best in training, he really had, but that did little to instill anything close to confidence in him. Instead, Otto was just morbidly afraid of the dog eats dog world that was on the horizon, knowing damn well there was nothing he could do to prevent himself from being eaten alive… well, I actually would prefer I just get stabbed or shot or something quick and painless. Being eaten alive seems quite excessive if you ask me. He'd been in a constant state of nervous laughter throughout the morning, doing his best to avoid letting his mind wander off to the worries he'd be meeting Silas far too soon.

"Thank you ma'am," He tried his best to sound polite to her, it was just about the least he could do since she was basically escorting him to his death, even if he wasn't all that grateful and actually grew to loathe her, "These outfits are so lovely this year."

That was in fact a lie, but at least the attire he'd been costumed in was better then that one year where all the kids had to run around wearing togas and sandals and this one girl tripped and got her veins ripped out of her neck. Otto really couldn't complain all that much since again, at least he wasn't a walking safety hazard up against running safety hazards. He was dressed in thick camouflage pants, pockets galore both in the front and in the back, and a red leather boot on the one foot he had. The other simply had the pant leg rolled up a bit past his knee so he could maneuver himself around the arena a bit better. And then came the webbed shirt he was wearing that felt a bit like it was a fishernet. He didn't like the way it clung to his body and made him feel all gross and he was beginning to sweat bullets. Then there was the red cloth vest that covered his torso, his name embroidered on the back in white. On his hands were red leather gloves without that again, were annoying and sweaty, almost to the point where he wished he didn't have to wear them. He'd probably just drop them once he got onto the ground. They were likely intended to make carrying weapons easier, but Otto just found them to be more of a drag. Wasn't much he could do about it though, anyways.

"I'm glad you think so," The stylist smiled at him before looking down at his leg or rather lack thereof, "If you don't mind me asking, what happened with that?"

"My leg?" Otto laughed, looking down at the metal device he'd designed himself, the very thing that would carry his ass through the arena, "What about it?"

"Why it's not there…" He then realized that he was an idiot for not coming to that conclusion himself, "If you want to tell me, I mean."

"It's not a problem at all, actually," Otto brushed off some of the metal plating, the rubber band which helped secure it to his leg beginning to shake, "So, you ever heard that old myth about the dude Icarus who tried to fly close to the sun?"

"It's vaguely familiar," She admitted, Otto unsure how interested this stylist actually was in his story.

"Right, so Icarus was a massive loser," He sighed, "The dude thought he'd be able to touch the sun with his wings and I guess I did too." Otto laughed at his own misfortunes, "I made things fake wings with my brother in an attempt to try and touch the sun myself, and I guess it was a bad omen to call it Project Icarus."

"Wait a second…" The stylist seemed to cut Otto off, "You said brother?"

"Yep," Otto grew a bit somber, remembering the guy who inspired him to be the person he was today, because he couldn't help but fear that he'd somehow let him down, "Wait a second, maybe you know him? Silas Wiley, he died a few years back in the Games."

"Ah," She scratched the bottom of her chin with her long and pointed fingernail, "Yes actually, that name does in fact ring a bell for me," her face softened, "Hey, I'm so sorry for your loss then, buddy."

"It's no problem," Otto wouldn't allow her to know that he was still hurting from Silas' death, and he never thought it would ever be the same for him again. His whole world was permanently shattered, and Otto had completely given up on trying to pick up the pieces at this point. He was beginning to feel just as gone as Silas must've when the knife hit his throat, "I miss him every day, if I'm being honest, but there's nothing I can do to move on from it. I'm doing my best to just get over it at this point."

"Hey, hey," She pulled back a string of her long purple hair, "You shouldn't have to get over such a terrible thing. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I'll see him soon, it's no big deal," Otto brushed off her sympathy, again simply not having the patience for something which seemed so manufactured, "Anyways… my leg."

"Right," The stylist got the feeling that Otto really didn't want to talk about Silas any longer, "So Project Icarus, and then what happened?"

"I got to do my first test flight a while back," Otto got chills at his own story, as much as he hated it's outcome, it was pretty epic in retrospect, "So I'm at this old field place and I'm using the wings to sort of fly around. Because yeah, I actually was able to lift off the ground, which I didn't at all expect. So there I am, in the sky, and I could almost like, reach up and give Silas a high five or even a hug."

"And then what?" She questioned him again, "Cleary something had to happen to lead to the leg falling off."

Suddenly, Otto was disappointed in himself yet again. The story really would have a happy ending if he walked out of it with two legs. He'd have a happy ending himself if he could walk, but he couldn't. Otto Wiley was just an accident that should have never happened, and if he had his way (which he clearly didn't), it wouldn't have.

"I hit a rock and some muscles tore," The somber tone returned to his voice, "Not a big deal."

"Oh..." The stylist looked back at him, clearly able to tell that he was hurting, "Well, may the odds me ever in your favor."

"Thanks," Otto sighed and then got up from his bench, walking over to the platform.

He wished things were different. He wished that the could have talked to her and told her how he actually felt, which was fucking miserable, instead of just burying it inside himself for so long. He wished he could actually be of use instead of just disappointing everyone. Hell, his allies probably thought he was a let down too. Otto had no idea why they'd even allowed him to stay.

The elevator doors closed and Otto issued a meek wave at the stylist. He took deep breaths, letting his chest rise and fall as he shut his eyelids in an attempt to find peace. But then as he moved, Otto began to worry. The elevator was getting closer and closer to the place where he'd launch, yet when he looked down he saw his leg shaking, more particularly the leg that wasn't supposed to shake since it was made of metal.

He was worried. Otto usually readjusted it once or twice a week to ensure it didn't fall off or break, or one of the rubber bands didn't snap, but obviously he didn't have the time for that this week, nor did Otto have the resources.

Oh fuck… The elevator came to a stop and Otto stepped out to see a village engulfed in flames around him, the Cornucopia center of what looked like a giant array of pure and utter madness. Everywhere Otto looked, all he could see was chaos and destruction, and so much fucking fire.

He could feel the stub of his leg started to move once more… holy fuck.

Liana Taylor. 40.
Head Gamemaker.
Purgatory. 11:59.

She was this fucking close to making the Tributes wear the togas again but she decided to be nice. If she had to deal with them, suffer through them and the consequences they led to, Liana wanted her first batch of Tributes to do the same, but alas, their uniforms had already been made, and they actually were fairly nice, so she couldn't complain about them to the extent to she wanted to.

Instead, Liana had bigger things to focus on, namely the arena, her arena. Lysistrata had found an old book, as she often did, and it described the afterlife in a poem. It described the depths of hell, the place where people went when they were too wretched to spend eternity amongst those who weren't meant to be dead, and the arena she inspired Liana to make was practically ripped from the pages of the book titled "Inferno." So that's what she wanted it to be called, "Liana's Inferno," an arena named after her, the person who designed it, yet the President got his hands on the plan and insisted the arena be named in his honor. Liana sighed, it wasn't too big of a deal anyways, she'd more than certainly manage without the branding provided everyone knew the arena was hers, which they did, since Liana had been getting a fair bit of press ever since the news of her being trained to be Head Gamemaker hit the public a few months ago.

Even more so now was Liana getting the attention she felt she deserved in a way, even if it was because Lysistrata and Clemensia were dead, at least she'd get some sort of recognition for all the work she'd put into the Games. Liana hated to admit it, but she was always a bit upset she didn't get more credit then she actually did. It was what she felt she deserved. And the press conference about her sudden promotion was surprisingly not awful. Or at least, it was way better than it could have been, more a discussion about her then of the fact Clemensia and Lysistrata were dead.

(She never said it at the conference, but Liana really did miss them. She just wanted to make them proud.)

She sat in her swivel chair at the glass window that overlooked the arena, her best invention before her eyes. Sure sure, the Games would only last nine days, but they'd be better then anything Panem had ever seen before. Nine days for the nine rings of hell that the Tributes deserved to rot in for the most part. Limbo, lust, gluttony, greed, anger, heresy, violence, fraud, and treachery; whenever midnight struck a new realm would be made accessible for the Tributes to be tortured in, the previous one burning to a crisp. She found it to be a good way to ensure the Games didn't get slow and nobody was allowed to hide for too long. Everything would be interesting, and everyone would find her to be the genius she knew she was.

"Here goes nothing," Liana sighed to herself as she watched the countdown play from her window, all the Tributes lined up and ready to face their end as she saw fit.

The clock struck noon and Caesar's voice roared through the speakers, "Let the 51st Annual Hunger Games begin."

Holy fuck did I just finish the Chapitols? My god, I think I did. Ugh, my mind is so fucking powerful. Anyways! The bloodbath is indeed upon us. I honestly can't believe we're finally here, even if it was a month after my goal. Writing Domestic Tranquility has definitely been a more grueling process compared to my last two SYOTs, as I dealt with way more in my personal life during this time, but I'm proud of myself for getting this far, and so grateful that I still have so much support. It's really wild to me that this story is almost as long as A Perfect Union was at the end, and we're just now getting to the good stuff. I hope everything has been worth it thus far though, and that everyone has been enjoying the story. So now that we're here, I'm curious what you think is going to go down once these Tributes enter the arena. Bloodbath predictions? Possible arcs and Victors? I'd love to hear what you all have to say.

And now we have some brief housekeeping to take care of. This is most likely my last author's note until the Finale. I personally think my chapters will have more of an impact if they end with yanno actual writing and not me blabbering. Of course, you all know where I am and where you can find me, and if for some reason you don't, just PM me here I guess? I don't know most of my readers are on discord and if not they have my phone number, so I just don't feel the need for A/Ns as we get to the grussome shit.

I will be writing the rest of the story in present tense because I do what I want, and I just like writing in the present more, I find.

I've also updated the blog, which is still domestictranquility . site with three new pages. The first is a map of the arena along with descriptions, the launch order for the bloodbath, and a playlist which may or may not correspond with events that will occur in the arena. All I'll say is that there's 19 songs in the playlist and 19 arena chapters, so do what you will with that information. Additionally, I've added a page for status checks which I will update throughout the Games. It has the current alliances listed as well, and it will show injuries, kills, locations, and deaths as the Games progress. I'll also list the current alliances at the end of this chapter in case any new reader comes across this and doesn't want to get spoiled. Finally, I have a page for eulogies that will be updated as more Tributes die, again just to prevent those long author's notes.

I realize the arena is quite confusing and complicated, but I promise it's more simple than it looks. Basically, the arena has nine rings for the nine rings of hell, as inspired by Dante's Inferno, and each day the Tributes will have access to one ring. Trust me when I say my dear Liana Taylor has precautions in place to ensure only one ring will be accessible per day. It's going to be tons of fun, trust me.

And that's about it, this was terribly long but at least everything said here was important unlike my blabbering from the previous chapter. Again, thank you so much for all of this support, as it really is beyond my wildest dreams. I adore you all.

Now, for the last time in a while…

Fuck this shit, I'm out,
Linds

OFFICIAL ALLIANCES

You Can't Sit With Us: Magnificence Grandeura Callarosa (D1F), Hesson Adair Svárovský (D1M), Cyra Terranova (D2F), Ludovicus "Ludo" Jornmark (D2M), Meridian Morello (D4F), Saia Anaklusmos (D4M)

Unhinged Besties: Auxiliary "Aux" Nyquist (D3M), Shuki Makosh (D12NB)

Smol Beans, So Smol: Curiosity "Curie" Zinque (D5NB), Otto Wiley (D6M), Checkers Chopin (D8NB), Josiah "Jo" Hurley (D12M)

Totally Not Inspired By Real People: Silvana Ildron (D6F), Garrick Bluebell (D7M), Hennessy Barlett (D9M), Danika Xiong (D10F), Lobo Kallenbach (D10M)

Proof Lesbians Can Be Toxic: Sable Hayashi (D7F), Bonnie Byrd (D9F)

Morally Ambiguous Babes Seeking Vengeance: Calathea Matheny (D11F), Chandler Whitt (D11M)

Howling Into The Abyss Alone: Luminosity "Lumi" Abrixus (D3F), Bubba St. Robbins (D5M), Vex Alamo (D8M)