TEAM 13 : DISTRICT 9
Katie : Katie
The Games Begin
Just outside her cylinder Katie examined her clothes carefully, but they seemed almost deliberately vague; the jacket, shirt, pants, boots, and underclothing seemed suitable for just about any environment. This was no surprise—with the exception of arenas that strayed unusually far in any direction (the Venus arena, for instance) Gamemakers tended to aim for as broadly usable outfits as possible.
It was good that they already knew what was coming.
Around her the rest of her team finished their final preparations too. In a change from the usual routine each team was given the same Stockyard, allowed a few final minutes of preparation before being sent to their deaths. They'd go up together, in cylinders making up one twelfth of the largest Games circle ever, and then be given sixty seconds to take in the terrain before bursting into action.
They were, more or less, ready. Ginny and her mentor stood to one side, discussing something in low voices. They'd decided not to trust Gloss, no matter how useful she might be: Gloss was the type of person who came from a District where killing was unnecessary and sought it out anyway—trusting someone like that seemed inherently stupid, and Gloss—who had spent all her time with Ginny discussing various killing tactics—gave no indication that such a precaution was unnecessary.
Immediately to their left stood Ron and his mentor, Rosemary. She they'd brought on. Not fully, mind—not enough to irreparably damage their chances—but Ron thought she'd make a good ally, and while she was a volunteer she was also raised in an environment that really pushed being such as the only true choice; for all that the same reasons for distrust applied to her just as much as Gloss, they also didn't, and Ron was given the final say.
Katie was still wary of her.
She'd seen Rosemary's Games, seen her manipulation and viciousness.
But it hadn't been her choice.
She just hoped that cunning was working for them, instead of for fame or glory or whatever she had first volunteered for.
(It helped, a lot, to know that she had a fellow Victor for a wife. Only one Victor, not including those from districts with enough other victors not to participate at all, from each district would survive—the option of the Alliance, that of complete rebellion, at least offered the chance that Rosemary and Atlas might live happily ever after.)
Hermione's mentor wasn't even here. Their Stockyard might be one of the fullest, but they were still thirteen years old—it was no surprise that when given the option between them and an older team those not in the Alliance might chose the physically superior choice instead. She was with Team 18—had chosen her team and stuck with them enough that Hermione never even volunteered the possibility of recruiting her; Alanza was smart, but she was also not a risk taker, and the Alliance—before anything else—was a risk.
Percy's mentor, Carel, was there and fully on board, as were all five of the other District 4 Victors. They huddled together with Harry, Angelina, Hermione, Alicia, Luna, Fred, and Katie herself, because none had been chosen by their mentors as their best bets—though rumor had it that both District 6' and District 12's singular Victors hadn't bothered choosing any best bet at all. Fred was quite certain about Lenny, at least, given that the man hadn't been sober enough to speak the day before, and as Gerik was apparently also an addict and equally unlikely to die—both were sole living Victors—the sixteen year-old was in all probability similarly disposed, for all that Angelina didn't even remember seeing him since the beginning of the interviews.
Of the rest Oliver was going over final details with Auston, his mentor and one of the three District 7 Victors which joined the rebellion (the fourth, Piers, was apparently not-entirely-stable) and Neville was doing the same with his mentor, Birdie, who had convinced both of her fellow Victors to join with them.
They were, as much as they could be, ready. They'd ate full, bland meals for breakfast some time ago, and now sipped at the various drinks on display—Katie's favorite was a lime-yellow one which tasted faintly of mint—and they'd all stretched and verified roles and, well, done everything they could to prepare.
They'd also watched, very carefully, as Hermione twitched repeatedly out of the corner of their eye, as she said things just on this side of lucid, as she made 'guesses' about what was above.
(It was nice, Katie thought, to get proof that Draco really was on their side. She'd never trusted him, not really, but he was apparently putting quite a bit of effort in to helping them, to helping everyone in this God-forsaken world, so it was perhaps time for her to rethink her opinion.)
Above Team 13 the lights began flicker. Katie glanced up, then to the right as her cylinder opened, and then a disembodied voice announced that it was time.
The team assembled, each slotting themselves carefully into the Cylinder they'd been assigned.
As one all twelve began gliding slowly upward. It was almost disconcerting, for all that she'd been on several elevators in both lives, but the speed was enough that her knees locked slightly to keep her upright. For a second she was incased fully in darkness, and then the ceiling opened, revealing an unnaturally blue sky—they were in the arena, and the forcefield was in effect.
Draco's information (and Hermione's interpretation of it) had been accurate: they were in a rainforest to begin with.
Not only that, but for the first time ever there was technically more than one cornucopia: behind each team of twelve stood a sort of dwelling, with a numbered label on each: Team 11 stood in front of one, Team 12 in front of two, all the way up to eight.
The clearing in the middle was unusually large, but the clustered cylinders did mean that it wasn't eight times the diameter of usual.
Katie was pretty sure Draco had been right about the Cornucopia too, but she'd gotten kind of lost when Hermione was trying to explain that one.
The problem was a different part of Draco's message, one that Katie was sure she'd correctly interpreted: He could get them out somewhere between day ten and twelve, and every two days the Arena would drastically change, becoming an entirely new biome in the course of twenty four hours.
Twelve days, to deal with the less rebellious tributes and the Capitol alike trying their damnedest to kill them.
Twelve days, to broadcast rebellion as clearly as possible to everyone watching without raising the alarm until it was too late.
Katie glanced at Hermione.
Hermione glanced at the rest of them.
Their Alliance was scattered across the clearing, whole Teams and traitors within larger Teams, and it was up to 13 to direct them enough to both not arouse suspicion and still stay alive.
Thankfully, they'd assumed as such in prior plans.
Ron made a gesture.
Their allies noticed the gesture, conferred, and made a different gesture back.
The gong rang.